Exist
Somehow, I feel this area would go down better had I anything of any substance to post.
Um, I like writing?
Oh yeah, for clarification's sake, if I say 'warrior', it does not denote the 'Warrior' class. If I refer to a specific class, it will be capitalized.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 3: Monster
How long has it been since I could remember the feel of warmth? The light of the sun seems cold mockery to me now. I cannot taste the food in my mouth, I have to be ever vigilant against tearing my skin, and where my heart should beat is but empty silence. Sometimes it is all I can do to remain lucid, to retain my grasp on sanity. I occupy my days with any endless number of tasks, certain that if I were left to myself to ponder the implications of what I've become, I would go mad. So this is existence as one of the undead. Unbearable. – From the diary of the Forsaken, Revlis
The morning sun had sent golden streamers of light into the quiet stillness of the wooden hut before Revlis tapped Amelia on the shoulder, waking her from her slumber.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and registering that she felt no drowsiness whatsoever. One of the myriad effects of being undead, she supposed. With a sigh, she swung her legs over onto the floor and turned her gaze towards Revlis.
"Had a good rest?" He questioned softly.
"Fine, thanks." She smiled hesitantly. "Your bed was rather comfortable."
He snorted briefly with laughter. "You mean you can tell? We're undead. We lack all but the most basic of tactile functions." He nodded. "It's nice that you want to be polite and all, but you'd best get used to some of the… changes that's happened, or you're going to be caught in lies very easily." He paused, looked at her, and grinned. "Judging by your expression, I'd say you'd be blushing pretty furiously if you could."
Amelia let out a frustrated sigh and shook her head. "If you're going to spend your time being mean, then leave me alone and find someone else to bother."
Revlis held up both hands in a placating manner. "No, you misunderstood me. I'm just offering you some advice."
Amelia's face twitched slightly – and from annoyance or amusement, she wasn't too sure. "Anyway," she begun, trying to change the subject. "What exactly does an undead… um, do? I mean…" She stammered, not wanting to offend him.
Thankfully, Revlis seemed to understand. "Well," He scratched the back of his head. "If you want, you can always find a job or something. Work in a store, run errands… most of the stuff one would do in a more… lively setting."
Amelia blinked. She hadn't, well, she hadn't been expecting a response like that…
Revlis noticed her expression and chuckled. "Let me guess. You thought us undead spent the majority of the time standing around watching body parts rot away and mumbling incoherently."
Not bothering to answer, Amelia merely ducked her head, offering silent confirmation. It seemed lately that all she did was jump to conclusions, making herself look stupid in the process.
Revlis folded his arms. "Look, I know it's not easy for you, adjusting to something like this. You'll probably end up making a lot more gaffes when all's said and done. But if you'll just stick with it, you'll learn quickly. Alright?"
She managed a tiny smile as she looked up into his glowing eyes. "Okay." She nodded.
As she stood, a thought struck her. "What about you, Revlis? What do you work as?"
He smiled wanly. "I suppose you could call me an adventurer or mercenary. I pick up missions here and there, roam the lands, take part in some battles…" He shook his head. "No shortage of those nowadays."
Then he turned, stepping out of the room.
As Amelia emerged into the bright sunlight of day, she shivered slightly. Quick glances around the area failed to locate Revlis for her. Shivering again, she chose that moment to pull her cloak tighter around herself.
Strange, she thought. It wasn't nearly the height of summer, but Autumn's chill should have yet to set in. It shouldn't have been quite so chilly out. Not to mention it had been rather bad last night as well.
Her sapphire orbs quickly sourced out what appeared to be a fire near the centre of the town, with several undead members huddling closely around it. Rubbing her hands together, she licked dry and cracked lips with a tongue that had no moisture whatsoever and headed for the fire.
She got two steps before a hand landed heavily on her shoulder. "Where are you going?" Revlis inquired curiously.
"The fire." She said softly.
Revlis frowned and shifted his gaze over to the burning wood. "I wouldn't advise that. Undead flesh catches fire extremely easy."
"But…" She shivered, pulled her cloak tighter around her. "But I'm cold."
"Oh." He closed his eye, looked away. "In that case, don't bother." The glowing orb of light that served as his right eye likewise shrunk down to a single point of light within the hollow socket. "You'll feel cold until the day we find True Death."
For a briefest instant, Amelia thought she could feel the chill around her intensify.
A week had passed without much incident. Amelia still found it difficult to adjust into the society of Brill – working alongside the decayed corpses of what had once been citizens of Lordaeron made her feel uneasy – not the least of which was the fact that she herself was no better.
That had led her to not having the slightest semblance of doing anything remotely productive. And it bothered her. Sure, no one, least of all, Revlis seemed to fault her for that. But, still…
As another day dawned, she sat up on her chair. With a deep breath, Amelia stood and headed out of the house to look for Revlis. She had made her decision.
"You want me to what?" He glanced up from the map he had been studying a moment ago.
Amelia swallowed, but nevertheless repeated her last statement. "I… I want to learn how to fight and defend myself. And… well, if you don't mind, I want you to teach me."
Revlis shook his head. "Somehow, I don't think you'll find the life of a fighter all that appealing."
"No, it's… it's just that I…" She sighed. "I wouldn't feel comfortable acting so… so…"
"Normal?" Revlis inquired wryly as he returned his gaze to the map.
"Well… yeah, in a place like this…" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an undead boy that looked to have been ten years old at the time of his death run past, kicking a leather ball. Behind him, a stablehand, his skin almost entirely rotted away, led several undead horses towards the stables, grabbing their reins with a skeletal hand. "I mean… it just feels so… so strange."
"True." Revlis sighed. "Most have lived here for a while… gotten used to being undead and interacting with their fellow undead brethren." He nodded, rolling the map up. "Well, if you really want, I can start teaching you some basic combat techniques." His lips pulled back into a grin. "Luckily we don't get muscle aches, so we can proceed quite a bit faster than if you were still alive."
Amelia nodded. "Thanks." She said softly.
He shook his head. "Don't thank me just yet. I assure you, it's not going to be easy, whether or not you're in possession of a tireless body." He paused for a moment. ". I've got some errands to run today, so we'll start tomorrow morning. That okay with you?"
She nodded, smiled. "Yes."
She had been sleeping when she felt something hit her in the chest. Opening her eyes and sitting up, she looked down at a wooden sword that had fallen onto her lap
Revlis was leaning in the doorway, another wooden sword resting in his folded arms.
"You ready?"
"Anytime."
The majority of the undead didn't care much about fashion, figuring that as long as they covered up enough of their bodies to protect them from the wear and tear of the elements, they'd be fine. As such, most simply wrapped their bodies in whatever rags they could find, although the fighters had a tendency to value strong armour.
Amelia hadn't removed her own clothes since she'd 'turned', but now Revlis tossed her a leather tunic, along with some cloth pants. Although soiled, they were sturdy and usable.
In response to her questioning look, he shrugged.
"The clothes of a simple village girl aren't really what one wears in battle – and battle trainings, for that matter." He turned away. "I assume you'll want to be left alone for a while – I'll wait for you outside the house."
Amelia stepped out once more into the sleepy dawn of the town. Revlis apparently had a good eye – the clothes fit her comfortably, and the tough leather of the tunic would be helpful in dampening the impact of any blows she received (and she had the feeling that there were going to be many.)
As the two of them headed out into a relatively secluded area of the woods, Amelia silently wondered what her first lesson was going to be.
Finally, Revlis halted in a clearing and turned to face her. "First, we'll work on your stance."
She frowned. "My stance?"
He nodded. "Right. Where you centre your weight during a battle can be vital. You need to be able to keep your balance, turn quickly, counter blows." Bringing one hand up to his chin, he frowned. "Though, I'm unsure if a female's battle stance would be much different." He sighed. "Tell you what, we'll just try the standard for males first – if things don't work out, we'll work our way around."
"R-right."
Revlis nodded. "Okay, first, set yourself into what you think is a good battle stance."
Hesitantly, Amelia did so. She was not encouraged by the fact that Revlis had to hide his mouth to cover a laugh.
"Okay, we can make some improvements." He finally said. "Here, try this out…"
Several hours later, the sun had fully risen and was now spreading golden light among the clearing.
"Okay, shift your right leg back slightly – right, that's fine." Revlis nodded. "You're getting it more naturally now. That's good."
"Th – thanks."
Revlis walked towards Amelia's front, holding his own practice weapon in a ready position. "Well, if you're prepared, then try attacking me."
"R – right." Here goes nothing. Mustering up her strength, she swung at her opponent.
He parried the blow, the force of his strike easily overpowering her own. With a gasp, she staggered back slightly, but was able to retain her balance.
Revlis grinned, the green orbs that passed for his eyes twinkling slightly. "You see? Under other circumstances, you'd have been sent sprawling, leaving you completely helpless. You staggered – that means you still don't possess the necessary physical strength – but otherwise, it was pretty good."
She smiled, feeling oddly elated. "Thanks for teaching me."
"It's no problem." He ran a hand through his brown hair – faded to the colour of flax. "Just keep practicing. If you want to be a warrior, this sort of thing has to become second nature to you."
"I will."
"Good. We can continue tomorrow. I've some other work to do right now."
"All right. Take care, Revlis."
"You too, Amelia."
The routine developed quickly. In the early morning, Revlis and Amelia would head out, and he'd impart some of his combat experience and knowledge to her. Once afternoon came, he'd leave for the day to attend to whatever tasks he had to do, while she would practice her fighting skills, or perhaps take a walk.
Being undead had its share of benefits, she had to grudgingly admit – one didn't feel hungry, and thus didn't need to eat. However, in the times when she did partake in meals, she had been utterly unable to taste the food. It was ostensibly meat of some kind, but for all Amelia knew, it might as well have had been made of baked mud.
Once in a while, she allowed her mind to wander, and she thought about what Revlis did in the afternoon. Most evenings when he returned, along with Arn'Jin, Gjoln, and the Orcs, he was covered in blood, and the weapons of the party were equally stained. He had obviously been fighting, but against whom, Amelia could only guess.
Over time, she started standing at the town entrance as dusk began to settle upon the land, glancing about for him and his band to make their return. As she spotted the telltale orbs of light that signified the approach of undead, she would step out, meeting them several feet in front of the entrance. She would offer to carry anything that might be burdening him, and he would decline with a brief shake of his head and a smile.
Today was no different. A blustery Autumn day, and as she leaned against a wooden post, watching as the wind swirled strongly around her, she didn't feel it being any more chilly than normal. She closed her sapphire orbs and sighed.
As she opened her eyes, she saw six lights in the distance. A smile graced her face and she stepped forward. However, the smile quickly faded as they came closer, and into better view.
Revlis was carrying a young boy – approximately 13 years of age. He was shivering slightly, and as Amelia watching, the lad's body jerked as he coughed uncontrollably. A clammy greyness seemed to have fallen on the boy's flesh.
With a lurching sensation in her stomach, she suddenly realized where she had last seen such signs. She took a shaky step backwards.
Revlis offered her a comforting look before turning to the town guards. "Found him to the south. No sign of any other bodies."
"Scarlet Crusade?"
"Could be, but doesn't look it. Nothing to show he's with them."
"All right. Pass." Revlis nodded to the rest of his group, and they stepped into town. Amelia hurried after him.
"Revlis, what-"
He shook his head. "Amelia… I think you'd best return to the house. We can talk later."
Several hours later, as she waited fretfully in the house, she saw Revlis enter. He sighed once before settling down onto a chair.
"Revlis, what happened? Is the boy…"
"He's fine." Her friend looked away. "Still a bit shell-shocked. Still, I was able to gather some information about who he was when he was still… alive." He ran a hand through his hair, the twin balls of yellow-green light glowing with peculiar intensity. "Apparently, his parents were killed and raised as Undead. He thus attempted to come to the lands of the Forsaken in hopes of locating his parents." Revlis sighed. "Didn't take two steps through the Plaguelands before he was infected."
"But his parents…"
"They could be anywhere, and named anything by now." Revlis chuckled bitterly. "And that's assuming they're not Scourge."
Amelia swallowed. There was silence in the house for several minutes until Revlis spoke up again.
"We've talked it over, and once the boy's recovered enough… we're striking out for Undercity."
"Undercity?" Amelia echoed. Her time spent among the Forsaken had allowed her to know of the place. A city built underground, it was the Capital of what remained the Undead Forsaken, and where the Banshee Queen, Sylvanas, held her dark throne. Even though she knew she would be accepted within, the thought of those dark halls made her shudder. "Why there?"
"It has the closest semblance to records worth speaking anything about in all the Forsaken realms. With that information, we stand out best chance at tracking down his parents."
She sat, contemplating the matter for several seconds before speaking up. "In that case… could I come with you?"
Revlis grinned slightly. "I'd be honoured to have you as a companion for that trip, Amelia."
Amelia later learnt that the lad had adopted the name 'Rahkal'. She had no idea if it held any significance to him, and she didn't really care either way. She had wanted to ask him about his original name, but Revlis had surreptitiously shook his head 'no' and so she had let the matter drop.
Now the seven of them were traveling through Tirisfal Glades. They had done so for several days now, trekking steadily through the night since Undead didn't really require sleep, and the two Orcs were hardy creatures by nature.
Thus far, the walk had been uneventful, aside from Arn'Jin grumbling about why they couldn't simply have made the journey by air.
Now, though, they had finally halted for a rest, and Amelia sat down. Rahkal had kept to himself for most of the trip and like her, had tried his best to stay far away from the Orcs without actually looking like he was trying to stay far away from the Orcs. She did feel marginally more comfortable around Ghun, but Jiron… she shook her head. As far as she could tell, the tales of the Orcs reforming themselves had merit, but she still felt uneasy around them.
Just as she felt uneasy around most of the Undead.
She sighed and looked in Revlis' direction. He was keeping a steady vigil for any potential threats, constantly scanning the misty forests. Among all of the Undead, he was the only one she felt truly at ease with. His gentle humour and words of comfort had served to make them fast friends.
She turned back to face the group, just before she heard Revlis give a cry of alarm.
"Scarlet Crusade! To arms!"
Instantly all battle-worthy members of the group were on their feet. Ghun bared his teeth.
"Jiron! Protect Rahkal and Amelia! The rest, spread out!"
She could see the dark shapes moving in between the dead trees of the forest. She stood tensely, one hand tightly gripping the dagger Revlis had given her.
The first of the soldiers leapt from the trees, aiming a horizontal slash at Revlis' head. Gjoln intersected the blow with a pair of daggers, and quickly cut out the heart of his foe.
Arn'Jin's arms were a whirling blur as he plucked hand axes from his belt, hurling them with deadly accuracy. Three soldiers were slain in such a fashion, and when he had run out of throwable weapons, Arn'Jin unfastened a crude but sharpened spear from his back, rushing forth to meet a pair of foes that came at him with drawn blades.
Ghun closed his eyes, mumbling and sending out a call to the Spirits. The tree branches suddenly swiped downwards, scattering the two spellcasters that had apparently joined up with the group.
Revlis' sword was little more than a silver blur as he batted away weapons from five incoming soldiers. Though he was severely outnumbered, Amelia could tell merely by the way the battle was being fought that he was their superior in combat ability. One foe, then another, fell quickly, fatal wounds evident on their chest and back.
"Look out!" Jiron snapped as he brought his battle-axe to bear, cleaving through a soldier that had attempted to sneak up behind them. Sensing movement out of the corner of her eye, Amelia yelped in alarm and drew her dagger, thrusting it in that direction.
She was rewarded with a gush of blood that spattered across her cheek. Her opponent staggered back, the dark gash on his throat evidence that he hadn't been prepared for the girl to offer and resistance. His weapon fell from limp fingers, and soon he slumped to the ground.
"Gngh!" Before she could properly reflect on what she had just done, she heard a strangled cry. One of the soldiers had apparently charged, managing to knock the sword from Revlis' hand. Now the two struggled, Revlis trying to prevent his foe from being his own blade on the Forsaken one's crown.
The others were occupied with their own foes – there was no one to help him. Reluctantly, Amelia grasped her dagger again, rushing to his aid.
Before she could reach him, however, Revlis had managed to shift enough of his weight that he was able to push his foe back, slamming him against a tree with bone-rattling force. The soldier slumped to the ground, the fight obviously knocked out of him.
She slowed, gazing at the stunned fighter. With a groan, he tried to pull himself up, but he had obviously hurt something. Troublesome, she thought. If they were going to take him prisoner, best he should be able to walk
Her attention was diverted by Revlis crouching to pick up his own blade. Once it was in his possession again, he turned back towards the hapless soldier. It took a moment for Amelia to recognize the deadly intent in his eyes. Her own eyes widened. Was he-
As he strode towards the man, the soldier raised his arm feebly. He rasped out, "Mercy-"
And then Revlis brought the sword slashing down.
Stepping back from the corpse, he turned to survey the rest of the fight. Those that could had fled. None of the Scarlet Crusaders in the vicinity were still alive. Amelia stood stock still, looking at the cooling body. Her mind in a whirl. Something was… this wasn't… Something deep inside her screamed that this was very, very wrong.
"We were lucky." Revlis' calm voice sounded through the air. "These were relatively new fighters. They weren't very good." He shook his head. "Get a pyre and burn them; I'm not risking some Scourge lackey walking by and reanimating-"
"You killed him." Amelia finally managed to speak, staring at the man.
"Hm?" Revlis turned back to face his last kill. "Oh, yeah, I did. He won't be bothering us-"
"But he…" She spoke slowly, trying to wrap her brain around the correct words. "He was helpless. He couldn't do anything to defend himself. We…we don't do that."
Revlis' eyes hardened. "Is that so?" He spoke quietly. His gaze shifted to the body of the one Amelia had killed. "You don't seem overly concerned that you fought and slew one yourself."
"That's… that's different!" Amelia snapped. "You were perfectly willing to slaughter that man like he was no better than a pig or-"
"Enough!" Revlis said, cold fury evident in his words. The others had gone completely silence. "You don't understand! The Scarlet Crusade hate us for existing! If I had showed him 'mercy', it would have made no difference to him whatsoever – the next time we met, you can be certain that he would have my head if he could manage it. To those fanatics, any who come into contact with the Undead are tainted and must die! They think that I – that all of us here – are no better than monsters!"
"Congratulations." Amelia replied, injecting every bit of venom she could muster into her voice. "You just proved him right."
Then she turned, running as fast as she could into the deep woods, ignoring the calls for her to stop.
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