Chapter 11:
No matter how much time had passed I've never managed to find out why exactly the Dreadlord had suddenly fled in fear of his life leaving me behind, sparing me the gruesome fate he wished to bestow upon me. Yet I also have to admit I did not really care about all the 'whys' in the world. Knowing wouldn't matter anyhow... the only thing of a certain relevance and of which I was thinking of most of the time was how this whole situation had shown me rather effectively how careless and weak I still was. Something I had to change no matter what...
I left the Shen'dralar only minutes after waking up. Those elves were just crazy, nothing more and nothing less. They wouldn't be any further help for me they probably had offered all they were still capable off after years of going insane. Somewhat impressive, not to last...
After making it back the Undercity – this time on the back of my new mount, I began searching whether there were ways how I could grow stronger. I spent several days in the library without finding anything. I would give it my all... even if it meant mindless studying. This weakness had to be erased, no matter what the cost! I would not fall ever again!
During those few days fate let me meet Calystea once or even twice, but I just ignored her. The silly elf was close to tears, she still didn't understand what went wrong with our friendship and I had no intention of telling her either. Up to this very day I have no idea if she has ever found out...
In the seldom times of resting and recreation I delved deeper into the thoughts I entertained about the virtues of the Forgotten Shadow. Just you think about it for a moment... for a sole second! What is it that characterizes a god? The answer is surprisingly simple... Strength and immortality! And soon I realized that if you believed the Forgotten Shadow, followed their teachings, immortality would be a side effect if you reached a certain level of power. I still wasn't sure if they really meant true immortality or only something like a name that becomes unforgotten over the ages, that you will be left behind in the texts of old or something vaguely similar. After all, fame was of no real interest to me.
Unfortunately the closer I came to finding out what I might seek, the closer came the came the sudden conclusion that there would be no way to grow any stronger in Azeroth for me. Then again my rotten luck seemed to be pushing it as far as I wanted to go - the military expeditions to the outlands were rather well organized and would offer me several possibilities to grow further in a new world. Like any other I heard the rumors of areas where you could see the nether freely flowing around you. And as fate kept on twisting and revolving I also found a chapter in a book that explained the function of cloth infused with magic. A robe or actually any piece of clothing produced like this would be able to enhance the magic potential of its bearer by a large extent.
All in all this was the only thing I managed to find out in the depths of the Undercity which again left me with no other choice but to venture into the world again and possibly straight to the Dark Portal in the Blasted Lands. But my plans would soon enough change on heart's beat.
I left the Undercity with my felhunter by my side and took a zeppelin to Stranglethorn. From there I travelled north, through Duskwood. The little human settlement there was of no interest to me, I just wanted to pass through without any fighting or hostilities, but everyone who dared to attack me, of course, paid with their lives for their foolishness.
From there I turned to the east and headed for the Deadwind Pass and the Swamp of Sorrows, from which I would have the possibility to go south into the Blasted Lands. Without tiring my new dreadsteed carried me along the paths the vast armies of Alliance and Horde once had taken – for the better or the worse.
I already could see the portal from a great distance, the crater around it was large but not only that – the portal itself could easily fit even the largest dragon. Aside from the pure sight the lands around were drenched with huge demonic energies. I came to the conclusion they came from the portal, but I soon found out how my senses fooled me. It did not come from the portal, no - but from an area further to the south, a place where even the blighted soil itself appeared to be from the twisted nether. I wondered who or what was emitting these large amounts of fel energy for the longest time but could not find an easy answer. And according to my map the whole area appeared as almost unexplored only named 'the Tainted Scar'.
But I wanted to see with my own dead eyes what horrors awaited within those scorched lands... Thoonum was quick to express his concern about us heading there. But I didn't listen to him. I just yelled at him that he should remain quiet and know his place. I never had spoken to him like this before, but I guess that place really let the best of me shine though as it deserved the closer we got after having started to make our way towards the scarred part of the land.
This was the first time when I completely rejected the opinion of one of my demons. Although the Tainted Scar was a rather large area on the map, something was drawing me to its close by northern end.
The whole area was festering with demons, felhunter of various different seizes, felguards accompanying them as they walked endless patrol routes.
I tried to avoid them as good as I could and it seemed to me they did roughly the same.
Carried by my own swift steps I reached the place that I was drawn to rather fast. It wasn't exactly what I had initially expected but an old altar. Behind it there stood a large statue of a hooded man holding a sword. Strangely enough the eyes of the statue were glowing in a faint orange. Two chains, one to the left and one to the right connected it with two blocks of stone. Old runes of a strange language were carved into them. It almost seemed they ... chained it down?
The altar itself was about as tall as I was standing in height and also bound to the ground with think dark iron chains, for whatever reason there might have been, human skulls piled up all around it. I approached the structure still on the back of my dreadsteed, my felhunter following slowly keeping a distance. He was actually truly scared of this place.
As I came closer I first noticed a man kneeling in front of the statue with the glowing eyes. He appeared to be rather old for a mere human. But what does age mean anyhow? The moment he saw me he got up to his feet and drew nearer on his own.
"Obviously..." He spoke forth "you are far away from your home..."
I didn't know whether or not that old man wanted to scare me but it didn't work, he was by far too quietly and calm. I asked him what this place was cutting all the small-talk. He also seemed the straight forward type and told me this part of the land was the former dwelling of the demon lord Kazzak and the altar next to us he had built by his own hands. Turns out he too was an old warlock that had achieved most of the things one could want if you sought for raw un-preceded power.
Raising his eyebrows he looked at me as a man of familiar interests and assured to me that I was already incredibly strong, yet... he also did not hold back to tell me that I would not be able to even lay a single scratch on him with any spell I could conjure before him. Hearing this made me furious of course, but he knew the likes of people like me as he said and offered me help in gaining what I sought the most by enslaving a doomguard of Kazzak's legions.
My minions were simply too weak as he so boldly put it.
Despite the first feeling of unease I carefully listened to his proposition and all the things I would have to do as requirements. It would have meant a lot of travelling again no doubt, something I wasn't too interested in. Yet in the end it came down to the last thing he said which made me turn down his somewhat generous offer, at least for the moment.
He had made the mistake to tell me that the doomguard would not provide me with the extra power I longed for because of its magical defenses and the fact that it was barely enslaved and not dominated by you. And should it ever manage to break free? Well you would maybe still have some time left to beg that it was too dumb to notice and followed your orders properly for a while. But either that was not what I wanted or even needed right now. My life proved risky enough as it was, thinking of my severed arm.
Upon hearing my reaction the old man gave it another moment of thought and came up with another offering for me. This was the moment when I first noticed it... He called himself openly a warlock, but this old man had no demon for a pet.
I tried to question his background but he would just ignore me and push on with his words. And so he made up a ludicrous tale of something he could show me - something that would greatly enhance my power in turn for a favor. Of all things he had managed to make me curious. I could not hold back but wonder what this might be, what secret the old fool might have to share. Backed into the corner I was, I turned willing to do almost everything in order to grow any further. I also told him that with sense of great fervor, but he responded calmly that I shouldn't go around saying something like that so easily. Someone could take it for the truth. Agitated by his words I almost began snarling at him... Though he only continued: if I wanted to hear him out on this offer, I would have to honor our privacy and send my felhunter to the demonic realm for a while. I had no idea where this was leading to, but I was desperate to find out, so without too much delay I dismissed my felhunter.
No matter what the old geezer might have said, I was pretty sure about being able to defend myself in case he would try to attack me of guard.
After Thoonum had vanished and left our realm, the old man started talking a good bit easier. He began by telling me his name was Daio.
What a strange warlock. None like I had ever seen. Then he sat down next to a pile of skulls and looked up at me. He warned me about what he would unveil in only a few moments later; that the progress, this knowledge could not be undone and I had to be really sure if I wanted to see it through. But he said as much as that he would help me on this endeavor, but only if I decided quickly and most important only if I did it today... At any other given time in the future, no matter how strong or weak, how proud or even if I came begging on my knees, he would not hold back and kill me immediately, shattering this broken body and taking what was left of me.
He achieved little but to test my patience and no matter what he would have said, that man couldn't scare me away. I for my part did not yet want to give away too much of how I felt and just nodded in return waiting for him to go on.
And he did not disappoint when he continued his little speech, this time about an old and forbidden ritual used by the warlocks of the Shadow Council who had but only merit to themselves. This technique... this insanity I was to witness soon had been banished from many a book of old because the results it bore. The few cultists proficient enough to use it well became too strong to be dominated and the ones in charge soon lost control. A warlock trained in wretched art can highly increase his strength and vitality by releasing the energy bound in the demonic pet he controls and taking it up into his own body instead of just 'borrowing' it from the live minion. The demon by our sides are somewhat like an energy reserve for us, waiting to be put to use and with this spell you would turn able to unleash this energy all at once.
The price of this ritual is for you to kill your own demon. Once it is dead however, you receive powers according to the nature of the creature you have slain.
"And all I want from you..." Daio said in a deep voice. "...is the blood that is spilled onto my altar."
I silently stood in front of the old man thinking about the offer in all its treason and opportunity. At first everything inside of my head screamed that I should just forget about this all, turn away and never come back! But... there was something else inside me, something that kept me from doing so.
It was this short moment of hesitation that let me remember what had happened in Dire Maul not too long ago, the shame and hate I felt for myself because of this weakness! It then pushed on back to the words of Daio how I wouldn't even be able to hurt him at all and finally ... my mind drifted back to the elf called Calystea. I don't know why exactly but it threw me off the edge... I didn't knew what to do, but with every minute that passed by I thought of this ritual as more appealing than before.
It took a while and at least cost me some effort, but eventually I agreed.
The memory of how it felt after summoning the infernal for the first time was still too fresh and I wanted to feel something similar again. To perhaps relive the rush that came with the sudden power.
With a sigh, not due to regret but something far more redundant I climbed onto the stone altar and Daio eagerly handed me a special dagger for the ritual, no demon would be able to withstand it he said.
What I can now clearly say is that in the moment I first took the dagger into my hands something died deep inside of me. Power was like a drug at the time, hell it still is and always will be. Having it feels tremendous, but the feeling soon starts to fade and then you want to feel it again and again. But each time – no matter what - the effect is not as great as it was before, so you start wanting more and more. Craving the rush it brings along...
I don't really regret what I did on that day. I would have come to such a point eventually sooner or later. There is no denying it... But the words each single one of them spoke just before dying are still haunting me even until today.
Choosing the easiest target first I started off with the imp. I kneeled down before summoning him, the dagger clutched ready in my right hand.
He squealed surprisingly happily as he jumped through the portal, no clue what was awaiting him.
"Where aaaare we, maaaaster..? You didn't summon Pipfip for aaaa long time now."
I didn't bother answering him. I just couldn't say anything to the wretched thing. And come to think of it I guess I remained quiet for the whole rest of the day from the moment on I was given the dagger. But there need not be any words on day as this. Instead I looked at the imp from cold eyes passing my judgment.
"Whaaaa..." The dagger pierced the chest of the little demon with the ease I had been promised. A bright green fluid immediately began dropping down the blade and onto the altar.
"Archimtiros faramos... ( Treacherous bastard...)"
He winced as he realized what I did to him. The words were of course in Eredrun, his pride demanded as much from the little bugger whilst his eyes were looking at me filled with the anger of his whole kin and maybe even hatred for the traitor I was.
Slowly starting to grasp what I was doing something in my head screamed at me to stop these atrocities! But I only yelled back at myself that I had already made a grave mistake that couldn't be undone anymore. And ... now that I already come this far... I did neither want to stop. I was desperate.
So I manned up and got back to my feet to summon my voidwalker next. I waited a moment so it would happen just after the body of my dead imp had disappeared fully into the twisted nether.
The blue bulk of demon glided into this world without a single word. Actually, for once he really seemed to like the place where we were.
As the blue bulb was slowly looking around I closed my eyes and blindly stabbed Belmon in his big dark back. A viscous liquid then started pouring out of the wound covering the altar as well as the dagger and a part of my robe. I never imagined these creatures even had something like blood...
"Toralar... amir tiros... ( Finally... free again...)"
His voice sounded about as hollow as it always had.
I closed my eyes again. Regret was already creeping up to me. But I just kept telling myself I couldn't stop here. Not after getting this far. I had sacrificed two of my demons already and if I didn't continue on I would be mocking them and their sacrifice for me. What a wretched logic to follow, but it convinced me to keep going.
Kneeled down again I had made up my mind... the felhunter would be the next.
Thoonum stepped out of the portal, seemingly not too surprised that we were standing on the altar. He came towards me calmly following my bidding as he had always done.
"I know what you want to do... I felt how two demons bearing your mark died only seconds ago... YOU WON'T FOOL ME!" He yelled at me inside my head. "After all we have been through together... This is the thanks for it? I saved your life several times, you cruel bastard!"
It was the first time that I heard him talk this way, so... out of order and heated.
My muscles twitched as I drove the dagger through his neck upwards right into his head.
"Toralar maev... (Selfish scum...)"
Three of the demons I had fought for so hard had died by my own hands within only a few minutes.
I had betrayed them. There was no denying it... What had I done? What had I become?
I kneeled there in front of the corpse of my felhunter as it was slowly absorbed by the essence of the twisted nether. The warlock called Daio besides the altar on the other hand was already growing impatient. He yelled at me that there was only one more demon missing to break all the seals I might encounter. And that I should keep going, it was almost done.
I slowly rose to my feet again. I had no idea how Darnys would react on summoning her. She could go on a wild frenzy the moment she was called to this realm for all I knew.
But it was no use. I knew her strength I told myself, and I knew that I would be able to overcome her! Cherishing these thoughts of false comfort I swallowed hard and finally summoned her.
She came into this world her head hanging low. Then from one moment to another she came rushing towards me. My mind was filled with the fear that she already knew what I wanted to do to her. But instead she flung her arms around me and embraced me, a tear dropping from her cheek onto my robe. I was too startled from her charging at me that I stabbed her immediately.
She looked at me with her eyes growing more and more blurry, black blood running down the edge of the dagger and over my hands.
"X rethul shi..., xi ashj... (I missed you..., my love...)" She whispered to me as she tried to kiss me one last time, but she collapsed beforehand.
She had died right in my arms.
Everything in my mind now breaking apart I wanted to burst out in tears, but I couldn't. I shed but only a single tear ... the last one of this existence.
For a moment I even considered turning the dagger on myself, but I was too weak for that either. I could do nothing but to fall to my knees tightly holding onto the body of Darnys until it had fully vanished into the nether. And even after that I just kept kneeling there and stared into the sky above me, hoping perhaps to see the place she had gone to.
Daio for his part decided he had looked at the whole scene long enough and wanted to break it up.
He told me that I could keep the dagger if I wanted to. It would surely do great as a magical weapon for almost any purpose, the blood being a fine coating. He also said something about how it would take some time for my body to be able to make full use of the overflowing energy I would be able to control from now on. Little did he know...
I already felt the effects of the costly sacrifice grazing my reaches.
I felt how limitations vanished rapidly one after the other when collecting energy for a spell.
The bloody offering of my four demons altered me in many a way, looking at it from this perspective now. The death of my imp largely increased the amount of magic I could use for any type of fire conjuration and made me able to create fierce demonic flame at the blink of an eye. Thanks to my voidwalker my lifespan was dramatically increased yet again even for being a Forsaken as well as the ability to resist shadow magic and most types of physical harm with ease. I also received the power to syphon life from opponents if I so desired. Darnys had granted me unparalleled strength concerning the shadows and the power to inflict pain to a target at will when I even only barely touched it. And finally after the death of my felhunter I became able to feel the magic inherited in other beings, the faint essence of the nether freely flowing amongst us as well as the ability to drain it from them, further enhancing my own.
According to Daio all these effects were to last until the day I died eventually.
Everything kicked in rather early, no matter what the old man had told me. How could he even hope to fathom the being I represented to this world? I could already sense how strong Daio had been from the moment on when he had offered me the dagger for keeping. And it soon dawned on me in its full clarity how he wouldn't be able to estimate how strong I had already grown during only this few minutes after the ritual.
But now with all this freshly found power inhabiting me I opened up for emotions again... hatred being the most prominent. I looked at the old man with merciless eyes from that point on, he didn't deserve anything else. By then I also understood what he had meant with his cheeky little remark about me not able to even lay a single scratch on him, but that time had already passed now. And the situation had clearly turned around to my favor.
I gazed at him wanting more. I wanted gratification for killing off my demons, my minions and pets!
Sensing I wasn't done yet he then went ahead to tell me on his own that he needed the blood because he wanted to fuse with a demon to become one for himself. He offered me knowledge. Knowledge without any gain! How could he even believe that this would quench my thirst for his blood?
No! Aware how this wouldn't be satisfying me, I jumped down from the altar pointing with the dagger at the old man. Whatever he was thinking, he clearly had underestimated me.
"Gul kar maev shi rikk amir xi no, kanrethad daz amir! (Die for what you have done to me, miserable old fool!)" I yelled out at him.
For a second or two I thought about giving him a chance at first, the first strike at least, but I knew this would not be enough to calm myself down. I wanted to see him dead most of all...
Hatred would become my strongest weapon ever since that day on forth.
Daio was killed within only a few seconds. Ripped apart, burn down and swallowed up whole...
Not even a scratch? Pathetic...
I left nothing of him behind that could be identified. He deserved to end like this and the world would be my witness.
After quieting my freshly found lust for blood and retribution I fastened the dagger to my belt and left this area with a bittersweet feeling still ravaging through my mind and soul.
I didn't know where I should go, but definitely not a larger city nor the Outlands for the time being... something a bit more desolate would do fine I assumed.
I just wanted to be alone for a while and think. Think about what I had been driven into, about what I had done. Ironically enough I had been alone for most of the time already, despite maybe my demons. But they were gone now, for always and ever.
Seems every time I met someone either myself or the other person was to get hurt for little to no reason...
So in order to prevent this from happening I would chose the life of the bitter lone wolf... at least for the moment.