This is the first chapter, introducing my warlock. Critique is welcome. Please. Enjoy reading!
It is human nature to fear the darkness. To fear the unknown…
Duskwood near the crossing between the paths towards Raven Hill, Darkshire and Stranglethorn. Light is a myth in those lands. Wind brushed through the dry trees and their leaves, creating eerie sounds of cracking wood and rustling bushes. Off the path leading to Stranglethorn, the dancing flames of a small campfire penetrated the darkness. Four men sat around the lightsource, laughing and celebrating their latest catch.
A poor merchant on his way down to Booty Bay. They catched him and killed him for sport. They left his body to rot right in the middle of the street.
"Did you see his face?" one of the men said, very amused.
"Of course." another one laughed and imitated a terrified face.
All four burst into laughter. It took them a while to calm down again.
"We should be more quiet, or else we draw unwanted attention." one of them said. The fire illuminated his face. A long scar ran over his left cheek. His face spoke of many fights he had over the years. A middle aged man with long, black hair and a fuzzy beard.
A younger man drank some wine before he looked at the older confused. "Like animals? Oh come on. We can handle a wolf or two."
The older man shook his head. "I don't speak of animals…"
The three younger men frowned and looked at each other. The sudden shift of the man's mood was concerning. "Then… What are you talking about?"
The older man laughed and shook his head. "So you never heard about this land, did you? I'm talking about… The Devil of Duskwood."
The younger man with the wine grins widely. "Uhhh… The Devil of Duskwood. How scaryyyy…" he waved his arms around mockingly. "A myth locals created to frighten opportunists like us away." he said and started to drink again.
The other two men, of whom one was just old enough to be called such, looked at each other before the youngest asked. "What's the Devil of Duskwood?"
The oldest smiled and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Some years ago, before the cataclysm ravaged the world, this land here was a great place to make some easy money. Be it for killing the undead or robbing people stupid enough to wander in alone." He looked over into the direction where they left the dead merchant. "No one even dared to stop anyone here. The king didn't care at all and practically left the people here fend for themselves."
The three men looked at each other. "That was years ago. What does any of this have to do with this devil?"
"I'll get to that part. Patience, my friend. Let an old man tell his tale." he said with a smile. "It was the perfect place to make quick money. But soon after the cataclysm, everything changed. Bandits soon didn't dare to enter these woods. Grown men who didn't hesitate to kill and robbed hundreds, suddenly were scared to enter Duskwood. They spoke of a demon. A devil that attacks and kills everybody who threatens the locals."
"A devil who helps people? That makes no sense." the wine drinking one scoffed. "See? Just fairytales."
"Maybe it is. But this tale seems to do its job then. They speak about a creature, almost double the height of a grown man. Horns on its head and eyes glowing a soulless red. If it attacks, it leaves no traces of its victims."
"And they were never heard of again… Uhhhh…" the wine drinking man said and waved his arms around again. "Come on… That's just clichee."
The other two frowned as the older man continued to tell his story.
"First, you get the eerie feeling of being watched. A cold shiver running down your spine as the hairs on your neck stand up straight. Then they say you see two red eyes in the darkness staring at you. And then, your fate is sealed. He will show no mercy…"
They all looked at each other, then they looked around. They tried to see through the darkness of the forest. The wine drinking one spotted two red glowing orbs, seemingly staring at them. He yelped and jumped back, tripped, and fell on his behind.
A deep growl emitted as the creature slowly came closer into the light of their campfire. A simple wolf. It growled at them before it ran away, back into the forest.
The other men were laughing. "Careful, Sam. They can smell fear." the older guy scoffed.
Sam stood up and gave the other three a deadly glare before other sounds drew his attention towards them. "Pst! I think there's another merchant coming."
Something he would be correct about. The scream of a female was heard. It seems like they found the corpse of their first victim. The four bandits jumped to their feet and rushed towards their newest prey.
Wind blew through the trees and bushes. Owls and crickets make themselves known through their sounds while the bandits surround the merchants.
"Alright, you know the drill. Hand over everything and you might live." Sam said with a wide grin as he approached the pair. A man in his 30s and a woman in her mid 20 as it seems. They hug each other tightly, scared to their bones.
"Please… Take it all. Just… Leave us be!" the man pleaded.
Sam however thought about something else. "How about you also give us your woman there? We haven't had fun in a long while."
"What? No! Please!"
"Shame. Then I think I'll have to kill you, huh?" Sam said with a grin and pulled the woman out of the merchant's arms. She screamed in terror as the other younger bandits grabbed her with a dirty grin.
Sam pushed the merchant who fell on his back. "Please! We didn't mean any harm! We're just merchants!"
"We know. And we're just bandits." Sam said amused.
Suddenly, everything went quiet. No wind, no animals. Everyone felt a sense of dread flooding over them. Even the woman went quiet. The darkness all around them seemed to edge closer and closer. Sam felt his hairs on his neck standing up. A cold shiver ran down his spine.
A growl made him swirl around. Again there are two red orbs. He stared at them before he laughed nervously. "Ha! Another wolf. Shoo!" He ran towards the orbs.
Suddenly, the orbs rose higher and higher. Almost double his size. Another deep growl emitted from the creature. Dead silence swept over the area. Sam stumbled backwards. His hands shaking in fear. The other bandits couldn't believe their eyes. Heavy steps edge closer and closer. Finally, the creature stepped into the lights of their torches. A wolf on two legs… A Worgen. A gilnean who carries the curse of the Worgen. White fur, horns on his head, a long white beard underneath his chin and those terrible, soulless eyes. Dressed in a green robe and shoulder pads with spikes on their sides.
Sam let out a scream as he jumped at the worgen. He rammed his sword into his stomach. But the worgen didn't even flinch. Sam stared up at him, right into his eyes. The Worgen simply stared back. Slowly, the big hand of the worgen with his long claws, wrapped around Sam's neck. The other hand pulled the sword out. Blood oozes from the fresh wound.
Sam got lifted up off the ground, struggling to loosen the deadly griß of the worgen. To no avail. A chaotic, deadly presence made everyone freeze. The other three bandits and the merchants could only watch as a purple-greenish glow, from inside the worgens hand around Sam's neck, seemed to flow through the worgens arm into his body.
Sam screamed in fear as his skin became wrinkled. As if he would age rapidly. Soon, the screams died. The worgen dropped Sam. Or what was left of him. A corpse with his life and energy drained laid there, looking like a raisin.
The worgen took a deep breath. His wound seemed to be closed. Now he turned his attention towards the other three bandits. The older bandit sank down on his knees. Defeated he placed his hands on his tights and closed his eyes.
The other two however, threw the woman at the worgen. She fell on her knees right in front of him. She looked up at him, terrified. The worgen just looked at her, but then walked past her. His soulless gaze fixated on the two bandits who threw her.
They tried to run. The worgen simply raised his right hand. A wall of unnaturally dancing fire blocked their path. In mere seconds, they were surrounded by flames. The worgen slowly closed his hand to a fist. The flames then inched closer to the bandits. They screamed in fear and pain as the flames swallowed them. The screams died. The worgen sank his hand and the flames went out. Not even ashes were left.
The merchant ran to his wife and hugged her tightly before he looked at the worgen again.
Said worgen turned around and looked at the older bandit. He walked towards him. The bandit opened his eyes and looked right into those soulless red eyes. "I accepted my fate. Just allow me a quick death." the older bandit said.
The worgen said nothing. He stared at the old bandit for a while until he finally lifted his hand. With a quick move, he snapped the old man's neck. A quick and almost painless death. He threw the lifeless body of the bandit onto Sam's and incinerated them with a spell.
He looked at the merchant and his wife. But without a word, he turned around and walked back into the forest. The darkness swallowed him and slowly, the animals started to make noises again. The merchant looked at his wife. Both hugged each other tight before they made a mad dash into Stranglethorn, leaving the darkness of Duskwood behind them, with a new story they can tell.
It is human nature to fear the darkness. To fear the unknown. And they're right to do so. For I call the darkness of Duskwood my home. And I will protect my home and its innocent inhabitants.
I am Mirok Blackwind. I am the Devil of Duskwood.