Chill of Death
Disclaimer: I do not own Warcraft or Harry Potter. I just write whatever comes to mind first. my friend is out of the hospital by the way, and i wish him luck
Death by the art of war
Harry sat there in the hallway, waiting for the women to return, waiting for them to come to him with whatever they had taken from their rooms, from their belongings, belongings he did not have at the time. It is such a waste of my time to sit here, unable to do anything because I haven't been to this dimension before, thus have no stuff of my own.
"It is not proper to sit there with your hands like that. Come, allow me to show you how it is supposed to be done." The voice of Calia Menethil was heard close to his ears, turning around slowly to find her lugging a bag with her, apparently that being the things that she seemed to value. "You need to place your hand underneath your chin, to give it more of a thoughtful pose. In court, you'd need to assume that if you want to doze off, I heard father tell me that often enough, didn't he do that with you, Arthas?" "I am not Arthas." Harry felt her hands caress his forehead. "You're cold on the forehead Arthas, maybe you're getting a bit ill. Do you remember the time when mother caught that cold, and we had to care for her? It was fun, wasn't it?"
Harry tried to wriggle free, but she held him in a grip which seemed to be inescapable, her right hand clenching around his left hand, whilst her left hand caressed his forehead. "Arthas, I don't really know why you follow the Lich King, but let's give it our best, shall we? Lordaeron may have fallen, but we are still members of the royal house, and have our duty to our people, no matter that they are dead and stinky."
Harry blanched, not even willing to think too deeply about it, the thought making him somewhat nauseous, as it was quite uncomfortable to think about this whole world, being covered in rotting corpses, who would all be used by their Master. It was also soothing to think of the power that it would gain him, should he rise through the ranks of the Death Knights and become the personal Knight of the Lich king, though he supposed that that might take a while.
"Trash, get up." Arend had returned, his armor having been replaced with a shoddy new one, which seemed to have been specially enchanted with runes, as they glowed slightly in the dim lighting of the room. Commander Mograine merely watched with a neutral expression as Harry got up, waiting for whatever was ordered next. "Lady Shadowpyre wishes to give you a personal greeting, I have heard, so you would best make haste to the training room, you maggots." There was abrief silence as harry mulled it over, before sprinting towards the training room, the way to it being automatically followed, the way seemed to have been burned into his consciousness. He looked to the sides, watching shimmers of light on the wall, all flowing in a chaotic pattern, which he did not even seem to mind, even as the runes began to glow with a greenish light, a shock of energy going through him as he touched a part of the wall, a shock going through him, but something spurred him on to walk faster, run faster towards his quarry, where he would be able to ,meet with lady Shadowpyre and hear what she had to hear, hearing the armor of Calia Menethil clanking behind him, knowing that she was hot on his heels, apparently also following the command that had been given by the Death Knight.
As they entered the room, the rest of the acolytes which had been selected for the Test were gathered, all looking impatient. They looked at Harry and Calia, Harry noticing that each of them apparently had a bag slung over a shoulder, though he did not care for it. "Acolytes, today is the day your skill will be measured. Due to His Holiness decreeing that you are worthy to undergo his test, whatever that may be, you are the cream of the crop, the ones that will further his goals. Serve with pride, die with pride, serve our Lord with all your might! For those who doubt the one named Harry Potter his skill, know this: the Lich King himself raised him, thus he must have some use." The Acolytes looked at Harry and then gave him a weird look, until something went sailing through the air, Harry catching it just in time to gaze at a longsword, apparently somewhat new, as the blade seemed to shine in the dim lighting.
"Alright, that was all. Go out and make me proud of training you, and I hope to see you in the War Room, should you succeed." There was no hidden amount of malice and jealousy within her voice as she said that, striding out of the room without making a sound, despite still being heavily armored. A silence fell as the students all seemed to look around, waiting for new orders. "You never told me that you were Raised by the Lich King himself. You're akin to nobility now, a lot of us never having even seen the Lich King. To think that you have met with him and survived his initial testing is something truly manly, Harry." Trishia had come up to him and had been bouncing up and down a little, her small form being somewhat akin to child-level height, which of course wasn't something that he could really judge, because he used to be scrawny himself.
"Manly? He looks like some Night-Elf reject." Leena commented from the side, grasping some of Harry's hair and then running her hand through it, her eyes going over his form as she pursed her lips, her eyes wandering over the rest of his body, checking it out. "He barely has any muscles, though it is unsurprising if he was raised by the Lich King, the inherent power that would come with the raising would give him the equivalent of having trained." It was more a monologue to herself then to others as she began to assess the skills of Harry. "I disagree. He does not look like a Night-Elf reject." The gnome piped up as she touched Harry's bum softly, her hand going over the plate that covered it, a smile settling on her face momentarily. "He's having a lot nicer looks then a Night-Elf. When I first met one, I said something like my, you're a tall one, but Harry's not that tall, are you? Besides, about his fighting, the only thing I can say is that Harry needs to get a bit more of a balance in his strikes, but otherwise is good enough for me."
"Hey, I was a grunt of Orgrimmar once, trained to check for weakness in my opponent, you can't go and disagree with me, you little munchkin." Leena said in a somewhat mocking voice, though the humor behind it was clearly visible. In a sense, Harry knew that she had not changed a bit by being a Death Knight, except for having a more nihilistic view on things, but that was just an observation by the fact that she seemed to be thinking of things in a darker sense, sometimes shouting to her sparring partner to forfeit, because the Lich King would have nothing about her dead corpse.
"I think he looks rather dashing, don't you brother?" Calia walked into close range once more, grabbing a hold of the hand which was not holding the longsword and brought it to her chest, letting it fall onto the flesh, making him feel a very slow heartbeat. "Before, I barely had a heartbeat, but brother told me that it will be okay once I follow the Lich King, that brother will come and make sure that everything will be alright, Lordaeron will rise again." Harry looked at Calia as she sent him a look which was hopeful, but also held a mad edge to it, a brief flash of something going through his head as he looked at her face, a flash of her looking younger, playing ball with him and even going as far as to play warrior with him and father, as they did a mock duel.
My father is dead, killed by Voldemort! I don't know how that memory got there, but it is not my life, not my memory! With that vehement denial, a surge within the energy inside of his body made itself known, as he could feel the air around him chill, a blade resting at his throat, looking at the one who owned the blade, seeing Arend look at him with a spiteful look. "We are going."
Lady Shadowpyre walked behind the group of acolytes who would be undergoing their final test to become eligible for learning the arts of Death as a Death Knight. Every time, it would have something to do with facing insurmountable odds, to corrupt something or to make sure that some new lands were claimed. The envy for Harry Potter burned within her body as she watched him follow Arend dutifully, the envy of the power which he possessed, which was far greater then the amount of energy she had at her disposal, even though his was untrained, it was all because of the Lich King that this had happened, to have another contender for the position of Grand Death Knight of the Lich King. It was harrowing to notice the stance which Harry took, the way that he moved being reminiscent of Arthas, the way that he seemed to move, to name but a minor thing.
It was truly horrific to look at him now, to see that the frail boy had been withered away from the bones by the plague, his skin being pale and apparently clammy, his black hair having grown a great deal, hanging around his shoulders now, his hands having been changed into something which resembled ghoul claws, but it made her feel somewhat reminiscent about her own ways of having been trained. Still, the power which ran through his body was visible to her eyes, she wanted that power for herself, to be able to use it to cause death and despair.
Harry stepped onto the teleportation circle pad, watching as the Necromancers around them began to incant the teleportation spell, their pale skin being exceptionally in its looks, as they looked like personifications of death, the females having a haunted look within their eyes, their male counterparts merely moving as if they were being like puppets on a string, the feeling of the forced incantation bearing down upon him. As the chanting turned up in pitch, he could feel the urge to run off the pad, to freedom, away from the chanting, but he steeled himself. He was beyond those feelings now, the feelings of fear did not have anything to do with being a Death Knight.
"Of course not. You will serve me well, Harry Potter, which is why I sent you with the rest of the students on the test. Most of you might not make it, but if you complete the goal I have set before you, you will join the ranks of my Death Knights swiftly…" the voice of the Lich King crept into his head, his eyes feeling heavy all of a sudden as mana burned around them, a whirl of colors filling his vision as he felt himself be transported onto a field, with death only in the area, a barren wasteland, where some parched grass managed to grow. A silence fell as they stared around themselves, until Arend called for order. "Alright maggots, listen up. Since you're girls and all that, I'll make it simple. The Lich King wants you to assault the Scarlet Crusaders in their village, a few miles from here. Resistance will be heavy, so I will be accompanying you, to make sure that it gets leveled right and proper. Lord Mograine, please leave this to me." The Commander Mograine nodded gravely. "I wish you luck, acolytes. Hopefully I will see you all at the ceremony where you will be gifted your armor."
With a snap of the fingers, a bony steed rose from the ground, which Commander Mograine mounted, and gave it the incentive to move by kicking its dead flanks, to which it reacted, letting him move out of the area swiftly, becoming a dot in the horizon, where a massive citadel was apparently situated around the mountains which dotted that landscape.
"Alright, I will assign the tasks. Syra, you will be the one who will guard the rear, I know of your capabilities and I know you will not mess up. If you mess up, your corpse is mine." The Draenei nodded, giving a brisk salute to her superior, though she seemed to suppress a grimace of distaste. "Harry, you will be the one who will charge into the fray, to draw their attention, while I sneak into the village from the other side. Since I have a deathcharger and you do not, I will of course be the one to do that." He tapped his Runeblade, Harry feeling an intense feeling of distaste going through his body as he looked at the Runeblade. It had the form of a bastard sword, with edges which seemed to have little grooves into them, which made it look darker and demonical then it would look were it a normal sword.
Runes were engraved upon the blade, along the central line, which seemed to split off slightly, the tip of the blade being split, a part of maybe 2 cm in between left free, giving it the look of a meat fork, but the glow around the edges seemed to indicate otherwise. The pommel of the blade was decorated with a skull, along with the sigil of the Scourge.
A silence fell as the next order was shouted. "Filthy Orc whore, you're on defense, while the little gnome can go and kill whatever she likes. Tree-slut, you're with Harry on Offense, make sure to give them a merciless death. Now, wait ten minutes before entering the village, I will ride towards the other side." Harry scowled at the Death Knight, his eyes feeling like they were burning, though he did not really feel any physical change in them. A silence fell over the group as Arend left, his horse being spurred into action, as Harry counted the seconds, casting glances to those who were taking the test too.
Syra was looking almost serenely at the ground, her hands laying on her lap as she apparently seemed to try and become attuned to the flow of battle, the only visible thing about her that screamed evil being the smile on her face, the teeth being visible, along with the edges of the mouth being curved upwards. There was a certain look of mellowness about her now as she began to hum something in a soft feminine voice, the sound being something that kept on distracting him, though it was something that was quite uninteresting to his ears.
A silence fell as Harry closed his eyes as he counted down the seconds, his eyes feeling like they were going to pop out as dark power began to collect within his skull, tactics flowing into his head. Arend had no doubt just given them the orders to get them all killed, since true tactics would allow for a quick entry in the village, unseen, then the slaughter could be unleashed. "We are going to the village now, and let none stand against us. We must hide the fact that we are servants of the Lich King till the last possible moment. There will be humans there, right?" he asked, the Gnome nodding softly. "Probably Scarlet Crusaders."
"Alliance Scum. No offense to those who previously belonged to it." Leena said and Harry began to think about the state of affairs, if Leena was the one who belonged to the Horde, she might be able to pose as a captive. "Leena, are you the only member of the Horde with us at the moment?" The Orc gave him a terse nod, as a smile grew on his face. "We're going to change plans. To charge wildly into battle will alert everyone to our presence, while if we pose as simple guards to a dangerous Horde member, it will not draw as much attention. Anyone got some rope?" Syra's eyes opened and her hand extended towards him, a length of silk-like rope being within them. "Rope which I use to tie my hair together."
"Thank you. Leena, let Calia take your sword, which she'll keep, and then hold out your hands, I'll tie them." The Orc did so without question, a grin growing on her face as he tied her hands somewhat tightly. "You want to play rough with Leena? Leena's always been wanting to taste some white meat…"
Harry gave her a baleful look, while he then directed the orders to the others. "Alright, Syra, that was your name right? You're a Draenei, so you might be able to pose as a holy person or something, if you've still got the touch for it." "Do not presume I am unable to act, little boy. You may be favored by the Lich King, but I got more experience. Of course can I act like a Paladin." Harry nodded, being remembered about him being only 14 in age and stature making him feel a bit angry at her, but it bled away quickly as he looked at Calia. "You are going to act like you are someone of nobility, having been rescued by her." He pointed at the Night Elf, who frowned slightly. "You won't even acknowledge me by name?"
"I forgot it." He said, his recollection being pretty much nil at the moment, possibly due to the fact that he was not very interested in knowing the names of the ones who would take the test together with him.
"How could you just forget it! I am Syrenia Leafblade, former leader of a detachment of the Silverwing Sentinels." Harry did not do much more then raise an eyebrow, his mouth opening slightly to possibly say something, it clacking shut moments later as he looked at her and then nodded to himself a few times. "It would be better if you listened to me, instead of just being offended. The best plans are those made by people willing to cooperate with me. I might be a lowly human in your eyes, but I for one wish to follow it, so we will not be killed soon."
Syrenia nodded, turning her attention to Harry instantly. "Then instruct me, Harry." The casual mention of his name had a rage spring up within him, his hands clenching slightly, his gaze directed towards the Gnome. "Trishia, you are going to accompany me as one of the members of a mercenary band who just happened to chance upon the leader of the Sentinels, and are showing them to the village, out of chivalry."
With that, there was nothing more to be said, as talk shifted from tactics to other uses, every member of their group being instructed in what to do in certain situations, as Harry began to walk towards the village, some movement above him making him crane his head upwards, a form flying through the air at a high altitude, though he had no clue what it was exactly, it being too high for him to see just what it was, but it looked to be blue in complexion, like the sky around it, the sun bearing down upon them, as their armor clanked and made ringing noises, the strides they took towards the village being made with a certain certainty within them, reaching the edges of the village, only to come face to face with a pair of guards.
"Who be you, in these wastelands of death and agony?" Harry sized up the guard who asked, his brain telling him that a quick hack to the neck would dispose of the guard with ease. "I'm Harry Potter and this is the rest of our little group. Somewhere on the tundra, we found the Orc in combat with lady Syrenia, and the rest of the women, I don't have a clue. This is my partner Trishia, and I was wondering if there's a good place to drink in this village." The guard looked at him suspiciously, the tabard which he wore being one with a red flame on it, giving a look at his fellow guard. "Let em in Stan? I think they're harmless, except for the Orc."
The other guard, Stan apparently, looked suspiciously at Harry. "Nick yourself with your sword boy. You look young, but we can't guarantee that you're not one of them Scourge." Harry pulled off his plate gauntlets, moving his sword towards the exposed skin and then sliced a deep cut into it, the blood wetting the blade, a dark trail being left behind on it. "Good. Now, for the rest of you people, I'll give some advice. Let us put the Orc in the holding cells, where we'll arrange for transport to the Scarlet Hold."
Harry watched as Syrenia pushed Leena forwards, a scowl on the Orc's face visible, making him wonder how she would be treated once in the holding cells… oh well, lacerations were part of the job description daily, so it wouldn't matter that much. He looked at the guards as they, together with Syrenia pushed Leena towards a sturdy building, following them into the village, making a brief mental query with the Lich King about possibly making sure that there would be some way to get them all picked up again after they had massacred the village. No voice sounded within his head, though he couldn't shake the feeling that the Lich King was watching him here and now.
They all decided to go to see whether there was a tavern in the village to try and see if they could get a drink, due to Syra making a mention of sampling the drinks as some refreshment. The garments which she wore were marked with some holy signs, obviously not holy due to the fact that they had been hastily enscribed, not even sanctified, but it would work perfectly. "You know, you should loosen up a little bit, mister Potter. It's been some time now, and you should know that I would be more then willing to accommodate you for a little time tonight." There was a visible surprise as he watched Syra offer that to him, only to look around to see frowning faces, since apparently a priestess was not to offer herself to a man that eagerly, or something.
After drinking about 3 steins of mead, Harry got the decent buzz that he had been hoping for, a quick rush of necromantic energy rushing through his body as he sobered up, watching as his fellow Acolytes seemed to be getting a buzz, Syrenia having a blush on her face, whilst Calia was busy engaging in small talk with a local woman, asking about the Scourge attacks and apparently being a sympathizer with the woman's plight, though he knew that she didn't care a bit about the woman.
There was a moment which passed as he looked at a man sitting in the corner, his armor decked out with a lion on the chestplate, clearly some sigil, a small necklace with a fist hanging from his neck, a sense of vertigo coming over him, making him get up, the rest of his entourage doing the same, his eyes suddenly feeling blurry and unfocused, stumbling out of the tavern, the intent to get Leena back with them and slaughter this village coming to the forefront of his mind. A silence fell as he began to walk towards the jail, his blade still being sheathed on his side, his body moving through the village with a purpose, his eyes going through the whole street, before walking up to the crimson tabard-wearing guards.
"Would it be possible for me to see the Orc that we brought in?" he asked the guards kindly, but they merely looked at one another and then shook their head. "Nobody's allowed to enter the jail except for members of the Scarlet Crusade." A narrowing of Harry's eyes was the only result of the words, his hand moving towards his sword, it being drawn from the sheath within seconds, watching the reaction of the guards, who shouted alarm.
Within 10 seconds, he had impaled one of the first guards on his blade, making the man groan in pain, whilst his colleague was being dealt with by his accomplishes, Harry giving the signal to storm the jail, the idea of this village burning to the ground being particularly alluring at this moment, the naked bloodied blade shining in the light of the evening. Immediately after the struggle, doors opened and men in crimson armor came out, wielding various pieces of weaponry, Harry looking at them with a look of disdain on his face, his hands moving in a pattern, much like the flick and swish of the normal wand waving that he did while being in his own world, a blast of water coming from a barrel full of it and hitting one of the coming soldiers, who was blasted against a wall, the sound of creaking bones and creaking wood being heard, bringing a smile to his face, as he parried a blow that would surely hurt him if it had landed, looking at the face of a woman, wearing the same scarlet clothes, a snarl of pure anger on her face.
"UNDEAD!" the shouted words made his blood boil, even though it moved slower then usual, his anger at her exploding as he looked at his fellow Acolytes, watching as they seemed to be able to fight off the scarlet dressed people pretty well, more and more joining in the fight, watching how Syrenia seemed to be keeping three at bay by sweeping low with her longsword, while Calia seemed to have thrown all pretense of normalcy into the wind and was just flinging herself at her enemies, descending upon them in a whirl of steel and flesh, kicking one man in the kidneys, while impaling another on the tip of her sword, before ripping it out and bludgeoning someone else with the flat end of the blade, hopefully strong enough to kill that person.
he stared at his enemy as they matched blows, the woman clearly being a better swordswoman then those guards had been, though they had neither been female nor have had any good combat training, more like they were put there to keep people from getting nosy.
"FOR THE SCOURGE!" Harry screamed, as he parried another blow, kicking the woman into the stomach, then fnishing her off with a downward stroke of the blade, the blood spurting out of the wound as he hacked into the body once more, his eyes looking at the rest of the enemies, watching as Arend arrived, his horse being a spectre of death, making him momentarily think about getting one for himself, as it would help a great deal with making sure that he got around, though he wanted something better then that, something which looked a lot more wicked.
As the corpses of the scarlet robed people piled up around them, Harry watched as Arend seemed to go into a killing frenzy, not once seemingly stopping to take a look at what he was slaying. As he approached Arend, intending to ask whether to slay the children or to leave them alive, a booming voice reached his ears: "FOUL UNDEAD, HOW DARE YOU MASSACRE THESE SANCTIFIED CRUSADERS!? I WILL PUT YOU TO JUSTICE!" Harry looked how the man, who had been sitting in the tavern had somehow managed to get a hold of a warhammer, Arend jumping to the call. "It is useless, Paladin, they are already dead! Now, you will face me, Arend the Deadgiver, in combat! Acolytes, watch how I defeat this paladin of the Light." There was a pause as a warhammer made contact with his breastplate, it shattering and sending Arend backwards a few steps, his runeblade making contact with the warhammer moments later, as a gong-like sound was heard throughout the village at the impact, a blinding flash of light blinding Harry.
His eyes were useless now, as they were blinded by the light, but he could hear a crunching sound as something apparently was crunched by the warhammer, which would spell doom for them all. His vision cleared to make him see that Arend was lying crumpled against a wall, what was left of his head decorating the warhammer that the Paladin held, who was now advancing upon him.
Harry watched as Calia darted next to Arend, the Runeblade which once belonged to him being picked up by her, then being swung at the Paladin, who merely rebuffed the blade with his warhammer, the unholy blade shattering upon the fount of holy energy, his attention going to the Paladin, a rush of what could be described as anticipation going through him as he readied himself, his hand moving towards his chest, knocking upon his breastplate two times, then screaming loudly, at the top of his lungs: "FOR THE SCOURGE!"
The scream echoed between the buildings vaguely as Harry stabbed with his blade, putting behind it enough force that would normally render any man killed, as he drove it against the paladin's armor, a dent appearing in the metal, but nothing else. "My faith in the Light is unshakable, foul abomination! You are going to have to try better, not that I would let you, but still. Your superior died because he was overconfident, make sure that you do not make the same mistake."
Harry's hands moved to parry the warhammer blow, seeing that it would be dangerous not to parry, his feet almost buckling under the force of the hit that had been dealt, the training sword being not able to last such punishment long enough to survive more than two blows. Already, Harry could sense that the metal was beginning to warp, the weight of the grip shifting slightly and he lashed out once again, with a strike to the upper torso, managing to hit the Paladin in the chest, the man's breath being in shallow bursts now as he had penetrated the armor, a bead of sweat appearing onto the man's face, as he was engulfed in holy light, his eyes glowing with a fervor and zeal as he began to go into a furious assault, Harry parrying most blows, but receiving one to the shoulder, along with getting a whack on the side with the hammer, his attacks being strong enough to wound the paladin now, though if he was asked about it, he wouldn't know how he had done it.
Three more blows would the sword be able to take before it would be bent out of shape completely. Already it was showing signs of being so worn and torn that it could barely be called a weapon, the way that the steel was twisted and bent made him feel conscious that he would need to find a better weapon. He glanced to the side, to see his fellow Acolytes being successful in holding of most of those scarlet robed people.
A tremor of something went through his body as he felt the air around him being charged with something, his eyes going towards the sky as a flash of light cascaded over him, his whole body searing with pain, as he could feel the light seep into every cell in his body, shrugging it off after a few more seconds, looking at the paladin, rage welling within his chest as his hand lashed out, grasping the paladin's breastplate, making it distort as he focused the dark energy that ran through him into it, his hands grasping at the man's throat.
"YOU DARE TOUCH A PALADIN OF THE LIGHT? DIE, FOUL FIEND!" the warhammer almost hit him, but Harry blocked it with his sword, which folded around the hammer, his gaze upon the paladin's face as his hands wrapped around the neck, squeezing it shut, preventing the paladin from breathing, the sheer hatred that he saw within the eyes of the paladin not fazing him one bit, as he began to make a stand for it, his hatred for this man who had tried to harm him overwhelming his senses, his nostrils flaring as he felt the rage build up, his hands closing around the man's neck even tighter, as he grew even more infuriated at the moment, a sense of pure unbridled rage coming over him, his hands feeling how the pulse of the blood within the man's veins began to slowly dim, the struggling growing weaker and weaker, as he stared into the man's eyes, the orbs beginning to slowly glaze over as he released the body, death having taken it without any problem, rising and then taking a sword from one of the fallen soldiers, of course it being a longsword, since that was the only one which he knew to use, even though most of his memories of using it had been implanted into him by the Lich King, which made him wonder if the Lich King ever took such a close interest in his subject, even though they were all united in Death.
"Free Leena!" someone shouted at him and he nodded, walking into the jail with a smile on his face, trudging through the building towards the cellars where apparently the captives were being held captive, since it was a logical choice. He pushed open a door with the label of Interrogation on it, opening it to see that there was a woman being tortured by another woman who wore the same tabard as the rest of the men that he had killed.
She turned towards the opened door, making him take action, his blade sinking between her ribs in a flash, watching as her body began to shiver and shake, as the blood literally spurted out of it, an acidic reaction occurring, which was not something that he would really like to see from her, due to the fact that it was considered to be quite hazardous if your skin got burned just because one of your enemies had such a lust for vengeance that she literally sacrificed her body for it.
"Cut me loose!" the voice of the woman on the rack said to him, as he looked at her, a shiver went through his body, as he spotted Leena's body against the wall, several bloody spikes pierced through her chest, apparently that having killed her. A grim smile settled on his face as he looked at the body, forcing her chin up and he looked into her lifeless eyes, the fact that there was still some warmth in the body making him wonder how late he had been with the rescuing part. He shook his head wryly, offering a prayer to god almost, before he realized that god must not exist, or not in this shape, on this world.
"Well, I think it should be better for her to remain here." He said, more to himself then to anyone else, but a scream of frustration was heard behind him, and he turned towards the woman on the rack. A glare was sent her way, as he looked at the way that her hands were shackled. "What did you do?"
"Nothing! I just entered the town, thinking about joining the Crusade, but they thought I was infected with the plague, so they tried to interrogate me. They killed the Orc first though, so you shouldn't worry about that body." Harry gave the woman a look as he took a hold of her chin, looking her straight in the eyes, with a smile playing on his face all of a sudden. "It would harm me far less to drive my sword into your body then to unchain you, but since I do not want to see a woman burn to cinders, I will free you."
The door opened behind him, making him sense the sensation of a Death Knight standing behind him, turning to come face to face with Syrenia. "Why didn't you kill the woman yet? The Lich King ordered us to annihilate this village, so we should kill her this instant… Unless you're still afraid to hurt women…" She trailed off in a mocking tone, Harry looking at her, then looking at the woman on the rack, who had paled considerably as she heard the Lich King's name being thrown around.
"You're Scourge, aren't you?" Harry nodded, slamming his newly acquired sword on the bracers that held her shackled to the rack. They broke and her hands became freed. "You will come with us. I have no doubt that the Lich King would like to see a replacement to the Orc who has died, Leena Bloodscar." The woman wailed something about her life ending, looking suitably terrified, until a surge of adrenalin made itself known, and a gigantic wave of fire surged out from her hands, washing over his form, Syrenia screaming in pain as she apparently was hit fully by the wave of flames, Harry's eyes narrowing as another wave washed over him, the plate armor which he wore being glowing hot, but he did not feel it, his skin feeling cold and clammy still, even though the heat in the room had been raised by the fiery bursts. "You will do well as a Necromancer, woman."
The woman's head smacked against the board again, as Harry bashed it against it, the first blow being enough to send the woman into unconsciousness, looking to the side to see Syrenia lying on the floor, unmoving. For the woman who had proclaimed herself to be one of the best students that the Academy had produced, she sure hadn't lasted long enough to really blossom into something, as he noticed that her hair had been scorched clean off, half of her face being blackened and charred, her breastplate having melted, her right arm having been burned clean off, along with a great part of her chest, the second blast having done the killing blow. He decided not to make too much of a fuss of it, the bracers binding the woman to the rack being shattered by one of his blows. Without really looking at the woman, he slung her over his shoulder after making sure that her hands were tightly secured with some rope, not intending to take any chances, as his armor was still pretty hot to the touch.
When he emerged from the prison, he saw that Calia was currently in the process of splitting a young boy apart with her blade, being very slow in doing so to prolong the experience for the little boy, who screamed in agony, spittle dripping onto the ground from his little mouth, a glazed over look in the boy's eyes as he was slowly ripped apart by a sword which was driven into his body, a grin blossoming on Harry's face. "Syrenia, what happened to her and Leena?" Trishia was looking at him with an exceptionally grim look on her face, totally unlike the normal look which she held. "Leena was killed by the humans before I could come to save her. Syrenia was killed as this woman sent a wave of fire at her. I knew the moment that I saw her, that she would do something that would make me want to take her with me, so I am going to offer her to the Lich King for training her to become a Necromancer.
"Oh well. Leena and I were good friends, but now I still have you, Harry, to count on. When we're done with massacring this village, shall we get together and share some body heat?" Harry had the feeling that she had just proposed that they should have sex, but he could not be sure of that, as he parried an attack made by an old man, who had attacked him with a farmer's scythe, his sword finishing off the old man within moments, as the blade pierced the ribcage and his eyes stared into the eyes of the old man, as the energy within his body began to grow and expand, his senses increasing a great deal, everything in the surrounding area seeming to come more alive, sensing just who were still alive and who weren't, his body tensing up automatically as he could feel that there were still some women left alive within a house which nobody seemed to have touched yet, the deaths of Leena, Arend and Syrenia being the only losses on their side, which left him with Trishia, Syra and Calia as his old support, though most of the guards seemed to have been killed off already, his hand going to his temple, pressing down on the skin as he moved towards the last house, knocking on the door once, getting no reply from the ones inside, his hand clenching up once more and then ramming against the door, the door flying off the hinges, making him able to look inside, seeing that there was a woman hiding in one of the corners, with another around the corner, probably hidden there with something to make sure that whoever came inside was hurt in a severe way.
He set one step into the household, his sword swinging into a horizontal arc, smashing straight through the wood, the sound of a scream, along with seeing half of a female body fall straight in the door opening, it having been separated from the midsection, a grin forcing its way on his face as he kicked the screaming woman in the face, the woman clearly being older than 40 if his guess was correct, but he did not even want to think so much about what a woman who was going to die was thinking, his sword entering her skull in just a short stroke, chopping off most of the upper part of her skull, exposing her brains. He did not feel pity as he did the thing, thinking that it was better for the woman to stop moving, to bother him less.
The woman huddled into a corner was something less of a bother, as he just impaled her on the sword, leaving it inside her body, the other life essence in the area being that of someone who was considerably younger then the woman he had just murdered, maybe a daughter or something. He pushed the door open as he had ascended the small staircase leading towards the second floor and then was greeted by a girl, probably not older than 15 sitting on the bed, looking at him with a somewhat frightened look. Immediately, he noticed that something was off about her, a certain shimmer that made him think about the time that he had spent in his own dimension, talking with Hermione, thinking about the future, playing chess with Ron… it all came back to him that moment, making him sink to his knees for a moment, his head looking at the girl.
Her eyes were almost shining in their intensity, making him receive a flash of something, something powerful. A vision of people, pale, with golden hair and wielding powerful arcane magics came to his mind, making him look at her again.
"Can you take me with you, Destined Knight?" The tone of her voice was soft and gentle, making him wonder how she had been able to survive here, frightened as she must be. Still, her words struck something within him, making him rise up and look at her, before slamming a mailed fist against his breastplate in a salute. "Of course." He thought that the Lich King surely would not mind if he brought this girl with him, after all, why not persuade people to join the Scourge in Life, because raising them from the dead would apparently be too much trouble.
"Alright, we should just be about finished with killing everyone… Did I kill your parents?" She gave a shrug, smiling beautifully, making the blood within his veins flow a little bit faster, just as they exited the building. "RUN GIRL RUN! HE MUST NOT CAPTURE YOU!"
The woman who he had planned to offer as a servant to the Lich King had risen up, Trishia being nowhere to be seen, Syra being too far away and Calia just emerging from another house, the woman throwing a wave of frost at him, a hand being placed in front of his face, catching the spell and then throwing it back, a wave of light coursing through the air with it, a hopeful feeling going through his mind as it expanded a little, a sense of detached pleasure filling the void of hate for a moment, the irritating thoughts of murder and bloodshed being driven away for a moment as he realized just how beautiful everything was. There was a certain grace to which the girl threw the spell back, the way that the sorceress immediately tried to dodge, but the spell hit her straight in the side, freezing most of the chest and torso solid, the woman dying almost immediately as her body hit the ground.
Harry stared at the body, hearing a sound from above, only in time to watch how a gigantic beast descended, drawing his blade, a gigantic skeletal dragon looking at him with blue, frostglazed lights shining in the sockets. Upon the back of the steed, a figure was seated, the crown upon its head being shiny and looking very much alive, as the draconic undead steed roared its battle cry through the massacred village, as the Lich King had arrived.
"Master, the village has been massacred." Harry was the one who spoke, after Syra and Calia had placed themselves beside him, all three of them kneeling, whilst the mysterious girl knelt behind him. A silence fell as the Lich King stood in front of the threesome, Syra making a soft wheeze from her throat, a scratch on her armor showing that she must've been caught off guard one time and had been punctured through her armor once. Calia didn't have much more then a few scratches, whilst Trishia was busy with wrapping a bandage around her hand, which had apparently taken a serious scrape due to a blade breaking off and imbedding itself in her hand.
"You have been recruited by my forces, have served your teacher well in the Academy… I have overseen your final test, and have deemed you worthy to become true Death Knights. Trishia Sprocketsprout, your armor will be ready for you once you reach the Necropolis of Naxxramas, where it has been forged by one of the most talented forgesmiths in my service… Wear it with pride, as you will receive your Runeblade the following morn, at the Frozen Throne. Syra Stormfur, your armor will also be ready at Naxxramas, your Runeblade received in the same ceremony as your fellow Death Knights… Calia Menethil, sister of mine… Your armor and Runeblade have been forged before you even attempted the test, and are ready to be worn when you will ascend to the ranks of a Death Knight… And finally… Harry Potter… You have done well, servicing the Scourge, as you have been risen from your corpse by my own power… You have felt the lure of unholy energy, and have not succumbed to it. Your actions in this test have proven your worth in the eyes of the Lich King, and therefore, I will personally forge your armor and create your Runeblade, as befitting a true Champion of the Scourge!"
Trishia made a soft gargle in the back of her throat, clearly overwhelmed that she had been selected to become a Death Knight, a whoop of joy coming from her throat, even as Harry looked at Syra, whose face shifted from a weary one to one which showed incredible gladness that it was all over, with an inquisitive glance sent at him.
"What's the girl doing with you, Harry?" Trishia asked, Harry looking at the mysterious girl as she smiled and bowed deeply before him. "I am here to make sure that Harry will complete his destiny. You may call me Anveena." Harry blinked a few times, a voice invading his thoughts: "Gathering admirers? Still, I congratulate you on succeeding on the test… Let's just say that the other half of me was hoping you'd fail… spectacularly… Still, I will make your Runeblade and armor with pride. The girl, Anveena, she said her name was, will of course be living with you as your servant, and will receive some rudimentary necromancy training, should you wish for her to take a more active role in the proceedings… Have fun." the dark voice of the Lich King disappeared from his mind, Harry thinking about the words of the Lich King, wondering if it would be better Anveena learneed Necromancy, to have at least one person as back-up...
A portal shimmered in existence, as the Lich King gave every person there a mental order to go through it, watching as it shimmered out of existence, a banner of the Scourge being placed in the place where the portal had been as it winked out of existence, before climbing back on the Frost Wyrm, his duty done for the day.
He had a suit of armor and a Runeblade to forge.
This was a chapter dedicated to my parents, who seem to think that I spend too much time online… of course i am, but if i don't dedicate something to them, it'd be boring, and most authors dedicate something to the people who spawned them... that might be a wrong name for it, but hey, i am known not to be so careful with my words. I love my parents and would cry if they died.
Well, a bit more reviews would be nice for the story, since I am putting in quite a lot of time and effort to maintain your attention, but hey, otherwise I'd be writing a story about Harry Potter who gets a succubus living with him for a month, with him being unable to have sex due to having a magical disease….
Yeah, my mind is weird at times…
REVIEW IT PEOPLE!