A/N: Please note that this is of course Fan Fiction, therefore the events described would be slightly deviated from the orginal telling.
And nope, I in fact do not own warcraft or anything else I write about.
Chapter 12
The Scourge was led back to its birthplace in Lordaeron. There the undead slaves spread their massive numbers, that now counted for many thousands, across the deadened land. Yet for all its dispersion, the Scourge stayed within the kingdom, the control over them was still very strong. For now it appeared the plan was to keep them contained here.
Wayne DeLovely and his companion Elf walked with many other Necromancers into the Tirisfal Glades, where he would stay for many more months. Nearly the entirety of Lordaeron was now devoid of life, only scattered villages and the members of the Scarlet Crusade remained. They dwelled in secret places, and rarely left to make hit and run attacks on small isolated units of undead. Bravery was nonsense when the cost vastly outweighted the benefit, so their efforts remained small. As the undead returned, the man Arthas and many of his horsemen were seen riding away towards the west, no other Scourge seemed to follow them.
In an old crypt near the capital city, Wayne, the Elf and some Necromancers would stay. Locked in the underground vault with pitch blackness all around, unable to rest, unable to sleep. The scurring rats and spiders being the only movement and sound as the powerful Scourge Necromancers layed still, utterly dead and oblivious to the world around them.
It would be impossible for Wayne to determine how much time he had spent down there, being as he was completely thoughtless. But a moment came, and when it did, he began to understand. In the top of his mind, he began to think again. His eyes turned to look at his surroundings for what felt like the first time. Then he thought to examine his hand and was able to lift it up and stare down at it in a profound new state of mind.
Some of the Necromancers around him began to do similar things. One or two began to move their jaws in an attempt to speak, but could not make any sound come out. Wayne tried to speak, but at first it seemed the hardest thing to do was to think of words to say. He fluttered his jaw and tried to make his lungs and vocal cords awaken. At length he said one word in a low hoarse tone.
"Suffering," Wayne said.
The Necromancers that seemed to understand him nodded for a long time. Wayne had a great number of emotions rush out at once. He felt the anger, sadness, pain, bitterness, but most of all, confusion. The total situation was still very unclear to him. It was as though he was in the beginning stages of waking up from a long vivid nightmare, then trying to wrap your mind around the reality of the nightmare. His brain was still not in full control as he could not think as he would like, and could still hear the same voice in his head, though now it was much more distant sounding.
All stayed within the crypt, trying to think more before doing anything else. Perhaps days or even weeks past, and every so often, a part of Wayne's body and mind would be loosened to be able to move with his own free will. Soon his memories would return, those of being living and dead. He placed Arthas as the prince of Lordaeron, and of the convoy sent to recruit him back into his service. Strangely enough, Wayne felt the urge to laugh at the irony of the fact that Arthas had ultimately recruited him back into the service of his kingdom. He was yet to feel regret or remorse for the things that he had done, instead he saw oppurtunity. That of the greater power he knew that he now possessed, and the ability to use it as he desired for revenge against those who had forced him into this servitude.
As the crypt dwellers stayed in the dark, now purely on their own free will. For they had no clue as to what to do, even with the freedom to decide their fate. Wayne felt new visions pass before his eyes. Almost like dreams for the awake due to their hazy complexion and echoing. The vision would come every so often and would be slightly different each time. It showed a beautiful Elven woman, one that Wayne was sure he had seen somewhere before, who was calling out to him, signaling a call for freedom and vengence.
The vision happened seven times over a long period as Wayne felt more and more compelled to follow each time. His thoughts of it being a trick was dismissed as he could feel her suffering and passion each time she spoke. The last vision told him where he must go help her and that he must go at once. For the first time he used all his bones and rose up to his feet, all around him, nearly all the Necromancers rose with him. Wayne strode forward up the stairs ahead of all others. He raised his bone wand to the door and used a powerful spell to blow the door to splinters. Then walked out into the night to fight for his freedom.
End of Chapter 12
