Undeath Beckons

Chapter 3 – Great Dystress

LOADING…

FETCHING CHARACTER DATA…

CHARACTER SELECTED: DYSTRESSI

ENTERING WORLD…

"The correct choice is obvious," spat David Trias, his voice dripping with condescension. "If you'd been paying even the slightest bit of attention, you'd know where the stone is." He kept both clawed hands firmly atop the cups on the table. Occasionally he'd drum those grotesque nails against the side of one, making quiet tink tink sounds. "I'm waiting."

I still had no idea how he expected me to complete this stupid challenge. He'd explained it several times, but every piece of advice he offered served only to confuse me further. Use the mind's eye? Trust no one? React faster than time allows? These were nothing but meaningless phrases, uttered to make him sound more sophisticated than his profession would imply. After all, when it came down to it, how hard was it to stab things in the back with daggers?

"That one," I finally answered, pointing at the center cup.

David sighed with a grumble and lifted the mug. There was nothing beneath it. He held up the other two mugs, revealing the pebble under the one on my left. "Again," he muttered wearily, clearly growing impatient.

"By the Void, how many times am I to attempt this ridiculous task?" I screeched, glaring with all my might into his ragged, moldy face. It was hard to glare without actual eyeballs, but I made it work.

"Until you learn," David roared, "that being a Rogue requires discipline and cunning!"

I shrank back a bit. "Apologies, master."

He made a tch sound and began spinning the cups wildly on the table, just as he'd done a dozen times before. "Now," he growled with malice in his eye orbs, "Remember what I've taught you. Where is the stone?"

I thought hard. What was it he'd said earlier? What was he trying to teach me? The cups in front of me glistened in the firelight. Nearby patrons had looked over at us during our spat, and were now busying themselves with any occupation other than trying to eavesdrop on two Rogues, or so I'd seen out of the side of my eye. That was a trick David taught me: how to be watchful. How to catch people doing things they didn't want anyone to see.

"Mix them up again," I requested. "I wasn't looking the last time." He did so, grudgingly. Wait, what was… Oh, David, you clever devil. You sly, sly Rogue.

"Satisfied?" he asked, rolling his eye orbs.

"Greatly." I lashed out like a cobra with my spindly claws and snatched the stone from his chest pocket. "Here it is."

For the first time that evening, David smiled. "At last, you are beginning to understand." He lifted the cups, revealing empty space below all three of them. "It is the essence of the Rogue to notice what others do not. Move faster than time allows, and you will find you can fool just about anyone." I nodded knowingly. "The Shadowstalkers need talented agents… not pickpockets and fools. In time, you will be such an agent."

"Thank you master," I answered with respect.

David rose from the table. "While you did not take to this lesson as quickly as I would've liked, you nonetheless did find the solution. Have the rest of the evening for yourself." He slunk away in his usual manner, disappearing from the room like smoke.

What a grueling day. Three hours of pure combat training in the morning, followed by fieldwork; David and I spent most of the remainder of the day slaying Scourge in the occupied sections of Deathknell. All throughout our fights he'd been leaning over my shoulder, critiquing my technique and insulting my intelligence. A harsh master, perhaps, but fair nonetheless. As I flagged down Venya—cute butt on that one… for a zombie, anyway—and ordered a bowl of Duskbat stew, I recalled the strange way David and I had come into acquaintance.

It'd only been two weeks now since I'd dragged myself out of that creepy crypt up the hill. No memories back then, nothing to indicate who or what I'd been in life save for natural skill with a blade, a signet ring with an eye-shaped symbol, and a strange tattoo on the back of my neck. My first stop was the Chapel, as per instructions from Undertaker Mordo.

"No memories? Hmm. How unusual," Sarvis told me. I felt terrified: what was the matter with me? Why didn't I know who I was? Luckily the amnesia, or at least part of the amnesia, didn't last too long. Within a few hours of going to the Inn to rest, I'd recalled a number of important facts: One, that I was once a gorgeous human from Stormwind with excellent combat prowess and a name ending in I; two, that I was attracted to females; three, that I'd been seeking someone else with a tattoo like mine at the time of my demise, for reasons I was unable to remember; and four, that I needed to get out of this hellhole as fast as I could, because whoever I was looking for probably wasn't here.

"There are a number of specialized trainers in Deathknell," Sarvis informed me once I reported back with my recollections. "As you say you are suited to melee, it sounds like you'd fit in well with either Dannal Stern or David Trias. I leave it to you to decide which path is best."

"What do I need a trainer for?" I demanded.

"Survival," Sarvis said flatly. "You think you'd last five minutes outside the gates of this valley? There are horrors out there far beyond your comprehension." He was talking down to me. I hated that.

"With all due respect, Father, I think I can handle myself. Just give me a sword and point me toward the exit."

He narrowed his orbs at me. "Very well. Your choice greatly distresses me, but if that is your wish, so be it." He motioned for his acolyte, and the man produced a sword from some back cabinet. "Shadows guard you," Sarvis chanted, almost to himself, as I saluted and left the building. Great distress. Hm. I liked the ring of that.

Snapping back to reality for a moment, I discovered my bowl of stew had run dry. I decided to head upstairs to retire to my room. Venya, a creature of kindness paralleled only by her beauty, was still letting me stay here for free. I'd have to see about scrounging up some copper to pay her with if I could. David was residing in the room just beside mine, I knew, but his light was out so I decided not to bother him, and instead resumed my reflections.

The memories skipped ahead, to later that same day: me, bleeding black blood on the cold grass, a human in a red and white tabard looming over with mace raised high. Then a flash. Silver in the gray sunlight. A torrent of red, bursting with the force of a geyser, and the man falling, throat open. And there he was: David Trias, helping me to my feet and applying a lightweight wool bandage to my grievous wounds. He guided me back to town, explained that he was the Rogue trainer, and offered me a deal.

"You displayed real talent with that sword earlier, even against a clearly superior foe. I would like to train you, on the conditions that you follow my orders as your master, remain here in Deathknell until I determine you are ready to depart, and do not, under any circumstances, attempt to venture into the territory occupied by the Scarlet Crusade again without my consent. What say you?"

This wasn't adding up. "What do you get out of this deal?" I asked suspiciously. "Sounds to me like I'm making the killing here. What's the catch?"

His broad, counterfeit smile widened, and I sensed he was genuinely pleased now. "Clearly you're already suited to the ways of the Rogue. Suspicion is a powerful defense. Very well, I will come clean: I'm a recruiter here under contract from the Shadowstalkers of the Rogue Quarter in Undercity. For every useful candidate I produce, my benefactors provide me with a very generous monetary compensation package."

"So if I turn out to be a willing sap that'll do as I'm told, you walk away rich?"

Somehow his smile grew even wider. "Exactly."

I considered his offer. It was obvious he had knowledge I could use, and furthermore, it looked like I wasn't getting out of this valley alive without a bit more training and guidance. But to be indebted to the Undercity… was that something I wanted? Well, my options were limited. For now, this was the best thing I had going: I could always sneak out later. I was about to become a Rogue, after all.

I shook his hand and nodded. "It's a deal."

David grinned wickedly at me. "Excellent. Now go steal that man's coinpurse."

And so I arrived back at the present moment, as I slid into bed and blew out the candle. Two weeks of training, and already I was ten times more skilled than I'd been when I—foolishly, I was willing to admit—tried to leave the valley. David commented frequently on my innate abilities. He said I was a prodigy. It was all bullshit, but I appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

My eyes began to grow tired. I wasn't sure how sleep worked for a Forsaken: what purpose did it serve? My brain had nothing to repair, since it was being kept alive by a combination of magic and disease. Oh well. Yet as I started to drift off, my keen ears picked up a very unusual sound in the room next door: Common. Someone was speaking Common.

No one around here spoke Common, except…

In a flash I was on my feet with dagger and sword in hand. I slipped into the shadows, just as David had taught me, and slid silently out of my chambers. The door to his room was slightly ajar. I took a breath.

"Easy Dystressi," I thought. "Remember your training." With the utmost care, I peeked through the crack, fully expecting to see David being roughed up by Scarlet flunkies. Instead, what I found before my eye was nothing short of unbelievable: a Scarlet Crusade member was fraternizing with David in a light, jovial tone. He said something in Common, and they shared a chuckle. Then the pair crept to the window and slipped out noiselessly.

What the hell was this? Was David a spy for the Crusade? Or was he trying to get something from them? I had to know. Taking great care not to disturb anything, I snuck into his bedroom and over to the window. The two of them were already invisible in the near blackness outside—no moon tonight—but I knew where they'd be going. I was about to go after them when I stopped to consider an important fact: my agreement with David forbid me from following. If I got caught, I could face expulsion from his tutorship, and possibly even be made to pay for the time he'd spent on me.

Well, rules were made to be broken.

The forest was darker than I'd ever seen. I didn't have a visual on my targets yet, but I knew I was nearing the Scarlet camp. I kept to the shadows—there were plenty—and remained out of sight. After several minutes of creeping along, I spotted a light in the black: a Scarlet Initiate was standing guard on the outskirts of the main campsite, holding a torch and shivering from the cold, her eyes occasionally slipping shut for seconds at a time. She was alone. She was clearly sleepy. And she was about to die.

Without a word, I slid up behind her and delivered a ferocious backstab with my dagger, while simultaneously severing her windpipe with my shortsword. The Initiate's corpse slid quietly to the ground. I caught the torch deftly. Now, how to proceed? I studied the body. Yes… this could work. Good thing they always wear red. Bloodstains don't show.

In minutes I was deep in the heart of the camp. I'd pilfered the guard's whole outfit, including her large crimson hood, which conveniently covered my entire face. The ratty tabard slung across me went swish as I strode confidently past dozens of Scarlet tents. At this hour of the night, only a few guards were about: they nodded at me in greeting, and I returned the gesture as I walked. Needed to find… there. The command tent. If my hunch was correct, the man I'd seen with David was none other than Meven Korgal. His face and name were on a wanted poster back in Deathknell.

As I neared the tent, I cast the torch aside and Vanished into the murk. Best to make a quiet entry, and observe. The back of the tent was not fully stitched. Perfect for spying. I peeked inside, and felt my long-stilled heart drop into my boots.

David was clearly not here for any kind of noble purpose, of that much I was immediately certain. He and Meven were sharing a bottle of wine and chatting in Common, laughing frequently. A small golden lockbox rested on the table between them. As I looked on, Meven removed a key from his sleeve and passed it to David. David, in turn, opened the box. The dazzling array of colors inside required no further explanation: those were jewels, and valuable ones at that. He shut it and made a comment to Meven, while simultaneously reaching into his tunic. A document appeared from David's pocket, and Meven perused it carefully. After a time, both of them nodded and shook hands. The deal had been made. Whatever was on that paper was likely not supposed to be in the hands of the Scarlet Crusade, and I could only imagine the damage it might do if it were, say, a list of the guard rotations, or a map depicting a safe route into the town.

What to do? I couldn't take David in combat, and I hadn't a clue how skilled Meven was. Think Dystressi, think! What had I learned that could help me? Oh… oh wait… yes. A plan was forming. I had it!

I maneuvered quickly to the front of the tent, and extracted a small pinch of explosive powder from my thieves' tools. Taking a quick breath, I chucked it at the front of the tent, and raced around to the back. Sure enough, Meven and David had heard the pop. Meven was standing now with his sword drawn; I'd managed to distract him. He held up a hand to David, instructing him to wait. This was my chance.

Before that dead heart of mine could beat three times, I'd sliced my way through the weak stitching of the back wall, beamed David across his thick, ugly skull with my sap, and pilfered the box of jewels as evidence. I didn't want to risk a confrontation with Meven, so I stole out of the tent again with all due speed. I was well outside the borders of the camp before the alarms sounded, stripping off the bloody Scarlet outfit as I sprinted. I had to tell someone, and fast. There was no way to know what David would do if he found out I'd been at the scene, but I had a vague idea of the kind of torture he'd gladly inflict to keep me silent. I couldn't leave the valley for help, could I? Only one option remained. I made my way toward the Chapel.

"But Father! I swear it's true!" I pleaded. "I saw it with my own eyes!"

"David is one of our most trusted specialists, Dystressi. Surely you realize the weight of the accusation you're making?" Sarvis countered.

"There you are!" David thundered, suddenly bursting onto the scene. He had a nice red lump on the back of his head, I noticed with a smirk. Everyone in the Chapel spun to watch as he marched up to the pulpit. I could practically feel the rage boiling in his cold bloodstream.

"Master Trias," Sarvis said gravely, "are you aware of what this girl is saying about you?"

"Aye Father, I am. And it's all lies, every word of it!" He pointed at me with a bony finger. "In fact, she is the one who is the spy! Why, this very night I caught her sneaking away to trade valuable information with the Scarlets!"

All eyes turned to me. "What?" I shrieked, my indignation nearly overwhelming. "That's ridiculous!"

"Is it? Look, in her hands! The box she carries!" He motioned toward it. I glanced down, and noticed the symbol of the Crusade embossed in brilliant red on its surface.

Well, shit. He had me there.

"But… but I stole this from you!" I stammered, temporarily losing my argumentative footing. "Tonight! While you were trading secrets with the Scarlet commander, Meven Korgal!"

David pointed at me sternly. "More lies! Father, can you not see what's she's doing? She's trying to cover her tracks by accusing me!"

"Think about it," I countered, "If I were really a spy, why the hell would I come back here? Wouldn't I already be on my way out of the city?"

"Enough! I have heard enough!" Sarvis bellowed. "Dystressi, you have been nothing but trouble since you arrived here. Until we get this matter sorted out, I'm placing you into custody." He snapped his fingers in the air. "Deathguards! Seize her!"

Well, being seized was entirely out of the question. I knew that the moment I was left alone in prison, I'd find myself on the business end of a garrote wire, courtesy of my former master. No, this could only end one of two ways: with David Trias in chains, or with my pretty little head on a stake in the courtyard.

And dying the first time was enough for me, thanks.

Faster than the eye could see, I extracted a small amount of blinding powder from my toolkit and blew it in David's face. He staggered around, groaning and clutching at his eye sockets. Damn, a direct hit. I hoped it would keep him busy long enough for me to escape. As he struggled, I quickly smashed a vial of smoke against the floor and Vanished from sight, leaving Sarvis and the other denizens of the Chapel coughing and looking around frantically. I made it to the courtyard before someone spotted me.

"Halt!" Deathguard Saltain jeered. He came at me with his blade drawn. Time to see if those combat lessons would pay off! I dropped the box of jewels, whirled my dagger and sword from their sheathes, and parried his attack. Saltain swung fiercely. Another parry. He tried to bash me with his shield, and I staggered back, taking a small hit from the tip of his blade. I countered his next swing and performed the Gouge technique David had taught me; Saltain wobbled in a daze, granting me a brief window to retrieve the box and slip away. I sprinted at full speed, thankful that I'd had time to cool down a bit during my hike back to the Chapel. I needed as much energy as I could get for my final escape. It was time to get the hell out of Deathknell.

More guards charged from the Chapel and other nearby buildings. Deathstalkers blocked the gates out of the city. I took a quick turn and entered the occupied district. At every juncture, however, I found myself cut off, and it was all I could do to find a clear path. The buildings began to bleed together in the fading light. Soon it was pitch black. I sought refuge in a large structure, hoping to throw them off my trail for a moment. How was I going to escape? There wasn't a way out of the city save through those front gates. No other option: I'd have to fight my way to freedom.

"She went in there!" a gruff voice outside called. I didn't know how they'd managed to track me, but as I heard several pairs of steel boots clunking toward the doorway, I felt my breath catch in my throat. They'd cornered me. Time to make my last stand.

I stuck the lockbox on a shelf beside me; I needed both hands free to do this. "Come and get it!" I yelled as three Deathguards rounded the corner. They lofted their swords, murder in their lifeless eyes.

And froze in place. Literally.

I stared in awe. What was going on? Shards of ice tumbled from the limbs of the immobile guards. Suddenly, a bright flash caught my eyes, and I stumbled, temporarily blinded. When I could see again, I found a most curious creature before me: she was a good head taller than I, with purple skin, hooves for feet, and corkscrew horns surrounded by a crop of messy black hair. Her blue eyes glowed with an inner light. She was dressed in azure robes and a purple tabard adorned with an emblem that, while recognizable, I was unable to name.

"Who… who are you?" I stammered. It was at that moment that I noticed the shattered chunks of the Deathstalkers on the barn floor. This woman, whoever and whatever she was, meant business.

She replied to my question in a weird, alien tongue. When I stared at her in confusion, she tried again, this time in Common. Still nothing. I didn't speak any Common. Her third attempt was more successful: "My name is Spectress. By the Light, what happened to you Cassandri?" Her accent was very… unique. Unplaceable.

I gawked at her, slack-jawed. "Cassandri?" That name… I knew it had once been mine. "You know who I was?" I asked in disbelief.

"Of course!" she exclaimed. Her blue eyes widened in surprise as she considered my statement. "Wait… you do not?"

"Do not what?"

"Know who you were? Who you are?" She appeared utterly shocked.

I shook my head. "No. But you can tell me."

"I'm afraid that will have to wait for later," Spectress informed me coldly. "You must come with me. Now."

I narrowed my orbs at her. "And if I refuse?"

Instantly, I felt my body lock up, as a gigantic block of ice encased me like a python smothering its prey. I could still see moderately well through the glimmering surface; Spectress walked near my prison and began casting a spell. In seconds, a wide portal had appeared at her side. I could see flickering images of golden spires and buildings through it.

"I'm sorry Cassandri. But you don't have a choice." She mumbled an incantation, causing the ice block—with me inside—to float lazily about three inches off the floor. With a gentle push, she sent me gliding into the portal, and off to lands unknown. The last image I caught before blacking out was the symbol on her tabard. It'd been so familiar when she came in… wait… yes, I remembered now.

It was the Violet Eye, emblem of the Kirin Tor. The same symbol etched into the signet ring now frozen to my left index finger.