Chapter 3:

Screams of finest agony and purest despair fill the air as I enter the village of Havenshire. It seems the other death knights are already making good progress in terrorizing the Scarlet Crusade here amongst their own borders.

Some of the workers are quite valorous admittedly. Though they are easily about as brave as it would already be considered stupidity. Our archers let a rain of arrows go down over the whole widespread area yet they keep up their work, collecting wood for the sawmills or working in the fields without ever ceasing or turning to flee from the hideous enemy that come marching down into their beloved home.

How can one be such an idiot, such a fool facing his own demise? Or maybe..., just maybe it is a stout facade and they are forced to do this. I can see guards looking out for every single one of them after all. But well..., I guess it doesn't matter in the end, for they will all fall to my blade. And to run now, would not help anymore.

I almost pity them for an instance, for they are so weak and blatantly foolish even as the gaze of our king lies upon them. And as I approach the first line of workers by the trees they keep on working as long as I am not in a swords range where I would become an imminent threat for them. I know that the one closest had noticed me a while ago, he kept looking over to me regularly, tracking how close I had already gotten to him and still he did not lay axe down but kept chopping away on the old grown-out tree trunks instead.

It was only as I had already raised my blade to strike, that he started to tremble in fear and crouched down.

"Have mercy with me..., I beg of you! Please... I have a family. I'm father of five children!"

I don't really listen to what he says. I doubt any of it would be the truth and even if the voice in my head overshadows it all.

'No mercy!' My king demands. 'They shall all die at your feet!'

My sword cuts through the air as well as the body of the human with ease. Blood is spilled onto the ground and covers the green grass in crimson shower. Something tells me that soon a lot of the great mushrooms from the rest of the plaguelands would also start growing here in large numbers.

I make my way further over to the saw mill. I had decided to head there first then after I had finished the workers inside it I will focus on the fields and on my way back I will grab a horse from the stables nearby. I'm just too curious if that 'rider' is really able to give me such a steed as he had proclaimed.

From here on out my venture as the envoy of the end shall begin.

None of the crusaders I meet poses as a real opponent for me. Still it does not take long for the urge to kill to come back to my mind. It quite quickly absorbs almost all of my clear thoughts replacing them with other 'clear' things...

As I enter the sawmill I cut down the first worker immediately. As this blood is spread, free from the veins and flying through the air some of it lands on my hands, a few spurts hit my face and the rest would serve as a new coating for the wood freshly cut. Something about this feeling, the crimson flowing free everywhere is deceiving. I just love it!

The urge to kill is always followed by an unknown rage giving you the strength and endurance you otherwise maybe lacked. And even though I didn't need it, it surely helped clearing out this place. I slaughtered everyone nearby within only few minutes. The wood now lies here drenched in blood as this would surely form a nice crimson coloring matching their clothes.

As I leave, I let the rage consume my mind to the fullest. I see how the crusaders in front of me move their lips. I see how they pray to the light on last time, yet I don't hear anything of it anymore. My senses are numbed, blocking out everything irrelevant. My sight is the only thing that's still crystal clear. And all I can hear right now in my head are the words of the Lich King.

'No mercy!' ... 'No survivors!' ... 'Mercy is only for the weak!'

I will not be merciful...

I will not leave survivors...

I will not be weak!

Flesh is torn asunder by my blade with every step I take. Blood is running through the green fields like small rivers, forming pools and ponds in little dips for the days to come. It will take a while for the earth to suck it all up again.

Terror is upon the civilians of Havenshire. I bring the war directly into their homes as I break open the poorly locked doors to the small cottages with strong strikes. There they are standing in groups of four to five, the old and frail as well as the young and pathetic cowering next to each other. But my blade makes no difference between its victims. They are all alike in front of their reaper. The despair shining from their eyes only fuels my madness even further. My killing spree drawn out as it is could probably keep on going for days like this.

Some of the villagers try to run... little do they know that this will be only a fruitless effort. The longer I keep on fighting, the stronger my connection to the shadows and to my master gets. Firing a jet of shadow magic at my opponent is rather easy for me once I delivered a few blows and drenched my weapon with blood. The shadows eagerly accept it as a payment.

The only ones that are even more pathetic are those that do not run, but try to fight and stand against me. They punch against my armor hitting one of the many spikes or knobs injuring themselves.

'Show them true despair!'

I will my king... I will, for I am your arm, your rage, your retribution..., your weapon!

As I return from the fields and make my way over to the stables, the earth under my feet makes splashing sounds with every step I take. A lot of blood had been shed here today and I'm not sure their crops would ever grow again in this place.

I reach the stable only short moments later. I cut down the front guards at its entrance without bigger effort and take the time to have a look around first. I find a beautiful black horse in one of the open buildings idly waiting for its old master. Unsure whether or not I had him cut I decide to take this fine animal with me. No matter if the steed I was promised may be undead or even a demon - this one would surely turn out be a fine deathcharger either way.

It takes a moment for me to get onto its back as it avidly shows me rather straight away how headstrong this particular one would be. A fine choice I figure as it keeps on putting up a fight. It takes a while until it finally runs out of energy and a few rather harsh kicks in the side for it to move forward at all. It even tries to throw me off a couple of times, once almost succeeding. But after that, I don't know what happened whether it accepted its fate or something but it began to obey my every command.

The way back to basecamp wasn't too long and passed by even faster on the back of this horse. Truly a fine animal, but life is so fragile... so unfitting.

Upon entering the general vicinity of the camp Salanar approaches me again and stops right in front of me.

"This specimen looks stout and sturdy. Well done..."

As I get off the back of the horse Salanar presses his hand onto the forehead of the now calm animal. A dark fog suddenly comes creeping up from down the hill and everywhere around us consuming it within seconds, leaving only a blurry image behind as the horse snickers loudly in fear one last time. Salanar tries to calm it down a bit, apparently with success.

"Be calm my friend, it will all be over soon."

The moment the creature has completely vanished, also the dense fog disappears in its entirety. Salanar then turns to me.

"I sent your new steed to the realm of shadows. A dark rider, a soul lost in between the planes, will kill it for his own ends and revive it as a deathcharger. If you are willing to obtain the mount that I have promised to you, you will have to follow your steed into the elemental plane. I will send you there if you so desire and there you will have to challenge its new rider. Defeat him, kill him by all means, offer his soul to rest and finally claim the mount as your own. The riders are no-one less than spirits of death knights lost to the shadows. So if you fail, you will most likely end as one of them. But they aren't the only danger..., watch out for the tormented souls of other necromancers and warlocks. They are bodiless creatures drawn to sources of great energy like any death knight would be, but concerning you...? You should be a real magnet for them."

I don't take too long to think about it and agree to his offer. Anything that would get me such a mount...! The words of agreement fully spoken and soon I'm also surrounded by a dark grey mist as it grows denser. The world around me loses its color until everything is only another shade of grey. The screams coming from Havenshire sound more and more damped until everything is completely silent around me.

All is quiet in this realm, not even the voice of the Lich King reaches me here. It is similar to the world I was in, an exact copy and yet, it is lifeless. Not a single person is disturbing the peaceful silence. I can even clearly hear the grass crumble under my feet. This silence, this calm is plainly frightening. The light wind blowing high up through the air is complementing it in every way, perfecting the solitude.

I walk on over to the edge of the camp and take a look down into the image of Havenshire. There I see the first other more-or-less living beings beside me. I spot the rider in between sawmill and the fields on his way out of the area. I wonder if there is only one around here and if there might even be any other initiates currently lost in this plane searching for their salvation. Anyways... I too have no time to lose and so I take the western slope down to the fields, it would lead me to him quickest.

With every step I take I grow more uneasy ... I have to get out of here as fast as possible no matter what. I know as much. Something about this realm is freaking me right out.

I pass the saw mill in a hurry. The rider has already spotted me on his own and he doesn't appear to want to make a retreat. The horse rears up and the dark horseman comes charging towards me. I dodge him and his first blow as good as I can. It is much easier to draw energy in this plane, though movement feels limited. Still I manage to immediately send a jet of shadow magic flying at my opponent.

"You fool...!" He takes it as a straight hit, absorbing the full strike. "Now die, outsider! This is no place for you to be!" His voice is hollow, almost like of a val'kyr.

There he comes again, charging at me. I have to dodge, but also at least land one hit on him too. The problem about this is that I should better not injure the horse while doing so. What use would a dead mount be for me? Not making it any easier I still have no other chance but to give it a try.

More or less driven by luck I try to dodge the horse as close as possible. It still hits me with its side which sends me flying after all, yet my blade, carefully brought into position in the time has taken the horsemen off his mount together with me.

Right now this image of the world is spinning around me but he, he rests in the grass right next to me, black blood running from the opened wound on his chest. I can see that much from here.

He doesn't move a single inch in all those moments as my senses stabilize again but nevertheless I decide to take up my weapon and finish him off for good. With a heavy thrust as I stand over him I drive my sword through his armor and body, making sure he would never get up again. I hear how bones are shattered, proving to me that he had been a real person and not only an empty armor forming a vessel for another wretched soul.

The horse then comes towards me fully on its own. I guess the Scourge and everyone connected to the shadows is bound to more rules than you would ever imagine. All those strange rituals and prices you had to pay...

Without delay I get onto the back of the animal as something starts to draw my attention away from my prize. I hear whispers. Someone or something is talking... Where are those coming from I wonder? Only seconds ago everything was completely quiet.

"Hunger..." They say. Repeating it over and over again it is always only the same word at first.

I look around. Then I see them. Black shades slowly coming towards me and the dead body of the horseman. They are approaching from the fields and the saw mill.

"Blood... Thirst... Hunger..."

They are repeating these three words over and over again. At least fifteen of those things are now closing in on me coming from the saw mill alone. Why didn't I notice them before? They must have been already as I had passed by that building earlier!

I spur my horse and ride off towards the image of our encampment. The shades don't seem too interested in me, but more so the black blood of the rider. How fortunate for me, but this streak of sudden luck would not last too long.

Whilst I rush towards the image of the breach in this world I throw a last look over my shoulder only to see how the shades have now turned towards me.

Damn it!

But even worse: as the slight panic from the back of my head begins to spread I notice it. That god forsaken horseman had not told me how to get out of this realm!

"SALANAR! I curse you!" I scream out into the emptiness in anger.

And only a short moment later I see his shadowy figure appearing out of his tent. I see his lips moving, but I don't hear anything at all. Slowly the world around me gets infused with color again and the silence is replaced by actual sounds – the screams of the damned and the moans of the undead.

"You succeeded where other initiates fail miserably. I was awaiting this outcome, yet I have to say I still remain impressed." He looks at my steed and so do I. It has a black fur just like the one of the Highlord too but with two large horns framing its head. Its hooves are glowing in a bright blue so that it almost seems white. The biggest difference is that it's wearing a black armor, but I guess this difference in color is just a difference in taste of the horseman that revived it.

I get off its back and dismiss it back into its own plane for now. Surely it returned to shadows at least I assume that is the place where it's going to. After all it isn't a 'real' undead horse like the ones of the Forsaken, it's more like a fiend or a nightmare.

"This is a fine mount you now have Be sure to give it a proper name."

I couldn't care less about naming my horse.