A Drifter's Hymn

Chapter 2: Plane Drifters and Void Hunters

Darkness plagues my mind.

Terror grips my soul.

When there is no where left to run

Where would you go?

Tormented and torn

Battered and scorn

Wretched and forsaken

All homes taken

By those you used to call friend

Now enemies til the end.

Shadows haunt my dreams.

Fear at my side.

When there is no where left to flee

Where would you hide?

From the perpetual darkness I arose to a dim morn. At first I wondered where I was. Also I had no idea how long I was out for. Then I remembered. The fight. The fire. The boy. Remembering the portal I had created and the boy I held on to save, I was curious as to what happened to the boy. Did I save him? Did he make it in the portal with me? Or did he end up like so many before...

Rising from the hard, barren ground, I gazed upon my surroundings. All I saw was barren, grey land. The only trees existing on its forsaken landscape were already long dead and corroding. No live was in sight. My hopes for the boy faded as I noticed his absence. I must have not been quick enough. Once again, I had failed another life. He was so young, so innocent. He did not deserve the punishment of those night elves and men that attacked me back in Darkshore.

And so I began my trek across the land. Every step was a hardship. My legs felt heavier and heavier with each movement I made. For this reason I did not understand. As an undead warrior, I should not at all be susceptible to pain or hardship. But then again, there really was no pain, it was just more difficult to move. Then I again thought why I am feeling this. Usually I do not feel this way after going through a portal. I finally decided it must be the dreariness of the land that is making me so heavy inside, though it was not feelings weighing me down.

After a few hour's walk, I knew something was wrong with me. I was feeling heavier then usual. It was to the point where I was just about crawling on all fours. Soon afterward I could not hold my own weight and collapsed. As I struggled to move, I heard a laugh in the distance.

"Amazing. Simply amazing!" laughed the voice.

Then a figure appeared before me. He was about my height (which was about six feet and eight inches) and wore black armor as I did. But it was fashioned differently. My armor, though decorated in some jutting spikes in specific areas like my shoulders and gauntlets, was basically plain in design. His was decorated in skulls. His helmet, shoulder pads, gauntlets, leggings, and boots were all dressed in black skulls. Upon his breastplate was a picture. Upon it was men, knight elves, and orcs. They were fleeing from this apparently powerful being in the center of the armor, for he was burning them in some sort of fire. The figures were in positions of pain and begging, as if crying out for help. For some reason, my stomach turned at this sight though I felt no pity for the figures in the armor or fear for the enemy before me.

"Usually it takes someone like you only minutes until you fully succumb to my curse." said the figure. "But surprisingly you lasted about four hours! You must be a special one."

A hunter of undead. He must have been after me the moment he saw I was littered with undeath. Though this was a different sort of foe, I knew I had to fight or else he would have my head handed to Stormwind's king for sure. But the problem is I could not budge an inch. I could do nothing as he drew closer.

"But now that I finally have you." said the figure. "You shall be the last of your kind!"

'Last of my kind'? What was this madman saying? Was I the last undead? That would be impossible unless I was out for many years. But that too must be an impossibility.

"Now be good and stay still." he said as he drew a flaming dagger from his sheath.

He drew ever closer with it, ready to stab me in the heart. As he drew closer I noticed fire was also emitting from his eyes. A dark, sinister aura lingered about him. It was unfamiliar to me and seemed like he was from the shadows himself. But as he was about to make his move, another voice echoed in the wind.

"You shall not harm him, vile hunter!" boomed the voice.

Then a gust of wind (which was unusual because there was not wind before) came at my attacker with great force, cutting at his armor and blowing him back. The weight that was holding me down all this time had finally been lifted from the muscles in my body and I arose feeling as light as a feather. Strangely enough, the wind did not harm me. The figure fought through the winds with great rage shouting, "You shall not take this one away from me!"

Suddenly a large, massive figure came out of nowhere, passed me, and tossed him aside in one blow with what appeared to me to be a totem. After he was laying upon the ground, he uttered these words, "By the might of the void, I condemn you!" At this I felt myself not growing heavier,
but weaker. Everything around me was growing darker and darker until finally I fainted in my sudden fatigue.

I awoke after what felt to be hours later. The strangest thing was I was dreaming. In this dream, I saw myself in complete darkness. All I saw was myself and that crazy hunter. But this time there was an army of him. They chased me and I tried to flee, but could not. As they continued to advance in my direction, I ran in place. The faster I ran, the closer they got. I tried my hardest to summon a portal, but it was no good. Even in dreams I cannot control my abilities. I cried out helplessly. Finally there came seven figures.

They came in the opposite direction of the advancing horde. The army of hunters stopped as the seven darkened figures charged past me and after them. One was tall with pointed ears. Another had tusks growing from his mouth. There was two normal-sized ones, possibly more human-like then the others. But one was somewhat bulkier then the other. Two of them were small. One had a beard while the other had a sharply curled mustache. The last one, a big, muscular figure with horns protruding from his head, held out his hand to me. I accepted his hand and was pulled back up. After this he too entered the fray where the others were utterly massacring the army of hunters. As I ran toward them to join them in there fight, the entire army seemed to vanish. After this, the seven figures looked in my direction. I stopped to look at what they saw and I saw a bright light. They all seemed to disappear in the light, and I shielded my eyes from it. Suddenly a blast hit me and for that one brief second my heart beat and I gasped.

What was even stranger than my dream was that when I gasped in my plight, I woke up with that gasp in my long decayed lungs. My mind raced. Was I truly dreaming? I must have, for the breath that I received was real enough. Looking around, I noticed I was in a tent and was under a blanket of cloth. To my left was a Tauren. I remembered he must have been the large figure that saved me against that hunter and in my dream.

"I was wondering when you would arise." said the old tauren. "For a second there I thought you could be more dead then you already were."

He laughed at this. Before him was a fire. The smoke arose out of a hole at the top of the triangular tent. A totem lay beside him and his mane was a bit grey. One of his horns was cut short, like it was chipped off at some point.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Why, I am Rankar Thunderblood, at your service." smiled the Tauren. "And I see you also hold 'the gift'."

"What gift?" I asked.

"The gift of the Plane Drifters." he answered. "A great gift, I must say."

"Tell me, old one. What is a Plane Drifter?" I asked.

"So many questions." he chuckled. "You are quite the curious undead, aren't you?"

"You might say I have many questions remained unanswered." I said as my eyes looked in the other direction.

"Then I shall answer your question." he said. "Do you notice those bracers perminently located on your wrists? Those are the instruments of the Plane Drifters, an elite group of drifters born into every intelligent race of Azeroth every one hundred years."

"Really?" I said. "So there are others who have this, curse?"

"Curse?" he said in suddenly alarm. "That bracer is no curse, my dear boy! You are gifted with the ability to control the void! You can travel to many lands within an instant and have the ability to do great things! And you say it is a curse?"

"But every time I go through a portal, I destroy all who are within the area. Everything reduced to ashes all because of me." I said.

"And you feel remorse for them, even though you are undead, do you not?" he asked. "Unfortunately that is the side effect of an untrained drifter."

"Really?" I responded. "By and by, who was that who attacked me?"

"That was a Void Hunter, my boy." he answered. "A hunter of the darkness that exist to hunt down and kill the Plane Drifters and delve the world into eternal chaos. And like the Plane Drifters, they too are born into the world every one hundred years. It is a secret war between true good and evil, thhough some Drifters prefer to use their power for personal gain."

"Tell me, old one. How do you know of this? How do you know of Void Hunters and Plane Drifters if they are in a constant secret war?" I asked.

"Because..."

As he said this, he rolled up his sleeves. On his wrists he bore the same bracers that I had. The same runes lay upon its metal exterior, and I knew what he was.

"I too, am a Plane Drifter."