Undeath Beckons

Chapter 5 – Blood of the Scarlets

LOADING…

FETCHING CHARACTER DATA…

CHARACTER SELECTED: BLIGHTFIRE

ENTERING WORLD…

In a flash I was behind the Chapel, pleading with Maximillion. "This is the perfect opportunity!" I cried. "She's out cold! She won't be up for hours!"

"But Blightfire, what if she-"

"Oh, so what? Master, you said yourself that I'm the better Warlock. Please, teach me the summoning ritual."

He sighed. "Very well. I will teach you. Come." He led me out of the cemetery, to a small glade a short distance through the trees behind the Chapel. "I will show you how to prepare the summoning circle. After we bind an imp to you, you'll be able to summon him without going through all this preparation. But it's necessary the first time."

Maximillion showed me how to draw the required design. It was a complex ring, filled with crosshatches and other symbols that looked only vaguely familiar. After a time, he asked me to stand in the center, and gave me a few Demonic phrases to memorize. I repeated them over and over until I knew them.

"Is it time?" I asked eagerly.

He nodded wearily. "It is time. Summon the demon, and bind his will to yours. I will be nearby, should you require aid, but from here forward, you're on your own."

I closed my eyes and began the chant. Beneath the lids, or whatever dark magic granted me sight, I could sense a purple glow; looking down briefly, I saw the ring at my feet light up with violet beams, bright and steady. I continued the ritual, moving my hands as Maximillion had shown me. It seemed… easy. Second nature. Like I'd done it a thousand times before. In seconds I could sense the portal to the realm of demons opening, and an imp began to feel the tug of my spell. I could see him in my mind's eye; he kicked and screamed.

"Oh no you don't," I whispered. The pull increased. The imp was dragged through the portal, and into our world. Now, the final piece of the task: binding. Seizing control. I opened my eyes and thrust my clawed hand outward. With a careful gesture and some muttered words, I locked the imp's fate. He was mine to command. I snapped my fingers—just for effect—and he appeared in a puff of fire.

"Whoa! What a ride!" he chirped.

"Demon. You are my servant now," I bellowed as authoritatively as I could.

The Imp shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. Same old same old. I've been down this road before."

I lowered my hand. The glow left the circle, and beneath my toes the dirt rolled over itself, washing away the symbols. "What?"

The Imp looked at me. "Name's Quznam. I've been servant to a Warlock before, girly-girl. Might've even been you, in fact." He stared at me carefully. "Nope, maybe not. You're a lot more dead than I remember."

This was a very exciting piece of news. "Quznam, your former master-"

"Mistress," he corrected me.

Even better. "Your former mistress… what did she look like?"

Quznam put a tiny hand to his tiny chin. "Hm. She was supposedly pretty by human standards. Frankly I didn't see the appeal. About your height… brown skin, black hair, nose pierced like you… had an eyebrow ring, if I remember right." He gazed at me expectantly. "That's all I got."

I felt my black heart skipping beats. "And her name, Quznam. What was her name?"

Now his tone grew curious. "Her name?" He narrowed his eyes at me. "Waitaminute… you're not… are you her?"

I nodded feverishly. I was moments away from a breakthrough. "Yes! Yes Quznam, I am the same woman! Now tell me her name!"

He shot me the coyest little smile I'd ever seen. "Eh… naw. Don't really feel like it."

"…what?"

He continued grinning. "I'm not in the mood. Ask me later."

"…what?" I could feel a heat behind my eyes, like a burning hellfire. This imp was all that stood between me and a critical piece of my past. "What?"

Quznam stopped smiling. "Uh… yeah. You heard… me?"

My voice became a furious rumble. "Eeragh! C'mere you little-"

"Yikes!" The Imp bolted off with me in hot pursuit. Damn, that pipsqueak was fast!

"Blightfire!" Maximillion called, his voice growing faint as I dashed away. "Wait!"

I chased Quznam in circles around the forest for a few minutes, tripping over branches and stones. Eventually I grew tired and returned to Maximillion, panting. He was rolling his eyes at me in exasperation.

"Let me give you some free advice," he said. "Well done on the ritual, by the way. Looks like it was no trouble for you at all." Quznam poked his head out from behind a nearby tree; I sent a Shadow Bolt at him, splintering off a large chunk of treebark.

"Yeah?" I gasped.

"Try bargaining with him. Imps love a good game or wager. If you can figure out what he wants or likes, you should be able to get him to talk." Maximillion escorted me back to the cemetery. Quznam had, for the moment, disappeared. I mumbled the enchantment to return him to the Fel, and felt his presence fade from this world. He'd be back soon. I thanked Maximillion properly and requested some time off from training, which he granted.

My next stop was the general store. I pawned the assorted loot I'd gathered from the Scourge yesterday, and used the money to buy myself a slew of upgrades. I picked up a healthy supply of water and cave mold from Joshua Kien and some new clothing from Archibald Kava, taking stock of their attractiveness—or lack thereof—as I did so. Kayla slept with these hideous creeps? She had to be an even bigger whore than Mitexi made it sound like. I waltzed out of the store with empty pockets and a brimming sense of empowerment.

Tattered cloth pants, vest, bracers, gloves, and boots, all in a pleasing shade of black. A short wooden staff clasped to my back, perfect for whacking any enemies that got too close. Top it off with the magical belt I'd found—Archibald informed me that it was a Willow Belt of the Eagle—and you had a sexy force to be reckoned with, if I did say so myself. My outfit complemented my curves quite well. I felt slightly embarrassed that this fact mattered to me… but it did! I couldn't help it! What good would victory over the Scarlet Crusade be if I looked like a complete fashion disaster?

Now geared and ready to rock, I set out for the southeastern corner of the valley. Time to see what these Scarlets were up to. If my plan worked, I'd be accomplishing quite a bit in one fell swoop: eliminate a major threat to Deathknell, claim the reward for Meven's head, and expose David Trias, thereby clearing Dystressi's name. Wherever she was, she'd better be grateful.

Once clear of the occupied district—the Scourge there presented no real challenge anymore, so passage was quick—I summoned Quznam. He appeared before me in a crouch, ready to bolt. "Hold it," I said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

His beady eyes darted around. "You're not?"

"No. I want to make a deal."

That got his attention immediately. "A deal, huh? What kinda deal?" I could see the hunger for excitement written on his face.

"It's simple. I want that name. What do you want?"

"What do I want? I want a lotta things."

I tried again. "What do you want that I can get for you?"

He pondered this a moment. "Where are we now?"

"We're going to assault an encampment of soldiers. The Scarlet Crusade."

That title seemed to ring a bell. "You know," he squeaked, "I have always liked the flavor of self-righteousness." He pointed up the hill, at the Scarlet camp. "You get me some of those guys' hearts and livers, and I'll give you the name."

I shook off my revulsion and quickly agreed. Quznam and I skirted around the outside of the camp, surveying its layout. I could see the command tent in the center, partially hidden by the valley's perpetual gray fog, and plenty of Scarlet troops milling about in various configurations. This wouldn't be as easy as running in, spells blazing. I needed… a distraction.

"Yoo hoo!" Quznam jeered again. He sprinted away from the camp with a whoop. A gang of initiates charged after him, following him up the hill and around a bend behind some trees. Right into the waiting arms of Blightfire. I unloaded a barrage of Shadow Bolts and Curses. In moments, all five soldiers were on the ground writhing in pain. I finished each one off with an Immolate, burning their skin and sucking the life from them for good. Once they were all dead, I reluctantly fulfilled my end of the bargain, and began hacking organs free of their fleshy prisons. None of the guards were wearing anything useful, so I cut through the clothes and extracted the juicy bits inside.

As I worked, I felt a very weird sensation: hunger. Those intestines looked… delicious. Maybe just a little nibble wouldn't hurt. I cautiously took a bite, and practically fell over. Such flavor! I hadn't had something this good since I died! Sure, the fungus was okay, and Venya's stew was about as tasty as it could be, but this… this was like a teeny, bloody orgasm in my mouth. It was literally unbelievable. I plunged my head voraciously into the body in front of me and began cannibalizing. Bone, blood, flesh, organ… so delightful! Was this another perk of being undead? Most definitely.

After a moment, I grew full, and withdrew. Yum. Quznam was right: self-righteousness was quite scrumptious. I wiped my face on a tabard and continued removing organs, now setting aside a few extra for myself. When this was done, I had Quznam repeat his distraction procedure. This time he joined in the fight, hurling minute fireballs at the backs of the guards while I cooked their skulls with Corruption and Conflagrate. A towering pile of Scarlet corpses now lay at my feet. Time for phase two.

Quznam and I charged down the hill into the camp. He held off a guard while I dealt with two more. Curse of Agony, Immolate, Corruption, Shadow Bolt. Just like Maximillion had taught me. The guards proved no match for my skill, and in minutes we'd annihilated all comers. The only thing that remained was the command tent. I strode up to it and prepared to throw open the flap.

Sching! A sword blade nearly took my hand off. I leapt backward, and just in time too: a shield pummeled the air where I'd just been standing. Meven Korgal charged out and collided with me, sending me tumbling backward with a cry. He yelled something in a language I didn't know. I rolled sideways, right out of the path of his sword, and was on my feet again quickly. But no sooner had I started to rattle off a string of curses—spells, not obscenities—then he was in my face, trying fervently to clunk me with the shield again. I managed to nail him with a Curse of Agony. He seemed to be… resisting it! He wasn't screaming out in pain like the others had!

Quznam entered the fray, jabbering in Demonic and launching a stream of fireballs. This act pulled Meven off me, opening a brief window to cast my full rotation of spells; Immolate, sending fire up his legs and igniting his tabard; Curse of Agony again, so it would last longer; Corruption, causing his skin to crawl with flesh-eating magic; and a Shadow Bolt to top it off. He deflected the bolt with his shield. Bastard.

"Ouch!" I yelped. A solid hit. I felt black blood rush from my torso, down into my cleavage and across my belly. The pain quickly faded as my body sent a surge of chemicals to the wound to numb it. I let out a primal scream and began casting Shadow Bolt after Shadow bolt, letting my arms and hands twirl like pinwheels. Meven was looking pretty beat up: large wounds appeared on his arms, legs, and chest as my curses and spells did their work, and he cried out in his foreign tongue, perhaps for help. But there was no one to save him now.

With a final howl of anger and triumph, I let loose a powerful Shadow Bolt. The cackling skull at its head flew true, straight into Meven's chest. He grunted, doubled over, and collapsed. I'd won. I'd won!

"We did it!" I cheered at Quznam. He let out an exuberant huzzah. "Now let's claim our spoils." I entered the command tent and quickly scanned the area. Important-looking documents, written partially in Common and partially in whatever language I could read and speak: seized. Magical bracers: swiped. Box of jewels similar to the one I'd recovered for David: acquired. I scouted around a bit more, but the sound of chain boots in the distance cut my exploration short. Time to go. "Quznam, let's get the hell out of here." We left the tent—I was sure to quickly remove Meven's head from his body as proof of my deed before we took off—and fled into the forest. The camp was far behind us within minutes. I doubled back and returned to Deathknell, just as the sky began to glow red from the setting sun.

The fading light trickled down like blood. I dismissed Quznam, then marched up to Deathguard Saltain and lofted the head. "You been looking for this guy?" I asked smartly.

Saltain chuckled. "Yeah, you bet I have. Toss the bastard's ugly skull over there. I'll deal with it later, but first," he slid a coinpurse off his belt, "here. The promised reward." I saluted him and headed for my second destination, the Chapel.

"Father Sarvis," I called as I walked in. He looked up.

"Blightfire. What news have you?"

I walked up beside him. "Might I speak to you a moment, in private?" I gestured toward the door. "It's a delicate matter."

"I see," Sarvis replied. "Come, then." We moved quickly out of the church, and stood on the dead grass before it. I produced the documents and the jewel box from my satchel. They glowed crimson in the evening light.

Dropping my voice to a whisper, I said. "Father Sarvis, I have significant evidence to suggest that David Trias, the Rogue trainer, is in fact a spy for the Scarlet Crusade, and has been trading secrets with them for some time now."

Sarvis looked… utterly disinterested. What was this? Did he already know what I was about to tell him? "I have heard this story once in the last couple days, Blightfire. I do not wish to hear it again."

I shook my head urgently. "No Father, listen. I know Dystressi tried to warn you, but she didn't have what I have. Look for yourself." I passed him the documents.

He studied them a moment. Ah, yes. There was the expression I'd been waiting for. "Why, that's-"

"David's seal, in wax. Yes. And what's more, I have this." I showed him the box. "Two days ago, David asked me to recover a case just like this one from the occupied district. He said Dystressi had stolen it from him. But I found this identical one in the Scarlet camp! This must be what he's been getting from them: boxes of gems."

Sarvis sighed. "I believe you, Blightfire. I only wish I'd listened to Dystressi when she came to me the other night." He rolled his shoulders. "Well, the remaining course of action is obvious. We must bring David Trias into custody. The blood on his hands-"

Thump. My world went dark and fuzzy. I could vaguely sense motion and sound at my side, where Sarvis was, but my vision was little more than blurry shapes and colors, with echoing notes throughout. I tried to focus. Nothing doing: my mind was like syrup, and although I could feel my body standing, I was unable to hold myself up willingly. What was going on? I let out a grunt. A bit of drool left my mouth.

Then, as quickly as it'd come, the feeling dissipated, leaving me standing beside the ravaged, bloody corpse of Shadow Priest Sarvis. I spotted David fleeing toward the gates. He had the papers in hand.

"Stop him!" I screamed at the Deathguards. "He killed Sarvis!" My feet were already moving beneath me as I gave chase. David was frighteningly fast—even at my top speed, his sprint was easily keeping him far ahead. Still, I was able to get a bead on David's trajectory: he was headed for the Scarlet camp. I fell into line with a couple of Deathguards—David had killed at least one on his way out of the town—and we all continued the chase, right up to the edge of the camp.

"Farewell, zombies!" David hollered. He was standing beside a wavering crimson portal. "The Scarlet Crusade has offered me a better life than the one I'll find in this rat's nest!" Then he was gone, and the Deathguards and I were charging into battle with cries of vengeance on our lips, but already the Scarlet Mage had stepped swiftly into the portal, causing it to shut behind her like a candle going out in the wind. We were too late. David had escaped.

After helping the Deathguards rout the remainder of the Scarlets and burn their tents, I dragged my weary bones back to town. Sarvis's body had been relocated, though to where I did not know. All that remained was a pool of dark liquid on the ground where he'd fallen. I stared at it with growing unease in my heart. So maybe I'd singlehandedly eliminated Deathknell's second largest threat, after the Scourge. So maybe I'd exposed a vicious criminal as the traitor and murderer he was. What did it matter? Lives had been lost—lost again, as it were—and I couldn't help but feel that I was partly responsible.

I knelt beside the puddle of black. The light around me was now the exact color of the blood that once used to pump through my veins. I remained this way, still, quiet, even as Mitexi stepped up from some unseen corner and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"You okay Blight?" Mitexi asked worriedly.

I allowed another sigh to escape my lips. "Yeah… I'm okay."

"C'mon into the Chapel," she told me calmly. "Dark Cleric Duesten—well, I guess he's Father Duesten now—wants to speak with you." I followed her in. Duesten was standing before the pulpit, looking concerned. Beside him stood Deathguard Saltain and another armored Forsaken whom I had not seen before.

"Blightfire," the unknown man said, his tone authoritative. "I am Executor Arren, warden of Deathknell. You have performed admirably today. Thanks to your efforts, the Scarlet Crusade presence in this area has been entirely wiped out."

I nodded gratefully. "What will happen to Sarvis?"

Duesten cleared his throat. "He… he requested that he not be resurrected. His final will states that he wanted his next death to be his last. So, he will be buried in the graveyard out back, just as he wished. I am now acting Shadow Priest of Deathknell."

"Uh huh. What about David?"

Deathguard Saltain spoke up next. "Word of David's betrayal has already been sent by courier to Undercity." His tone became grim. "The Shadowstalkers will see to it that he is brought to justice. You need not trouble yourself with it further."

Straightening up, Duesten continued, "As a reward for your courage and tenacity, it is the opinion of Arren, Saltain, and myself that you be given a few items from the town's treasury. I have taken the liberty of locating some things for you while you were off chasing David. They can be found in your room at the Inn—which, by the way, will be free from here forward."

I bowed courteously. "Thank you."

"Have you anything further to bring to our attention?" Arren asked.

I shook my head. "No sir. I have had quite enough adventure for today, thanks."

The three of them smiled benevolently at me. "Go then. Get some rest." I performed the Forsaken salute, which they returned, and left the Chapel with Mitexi beside me. My feet hurt.

"So… sounds like you've had a busy day," Mitexi said amicably. "Bet you wanna get some sleep now huh?"

"I'd like that, yes," I groaned wearily. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

She smiled. "You bet. Goodnight." We parted ways, and within minutes I was in my room, sleep dragging my eyelids down like weights. I paused briefly to admire the gear I'd been gifted—a beautiful robe, a gemmed staff, and a pair of new boots, all magical—but even that did not seem enough to keep me awake now. I slid my travel pack off my hips and… wait. What was in there that sounded so squishy?

I opened it up. A couple of Scarlet hearts tumbled out, smearing red on the floor. Oh yeah. Quznam.

"Bout time!" he squawked when I summoned him. "I thought you'd forgotten our deal!"

I shrugged. "Truth be told, Quznam, I almost did."

"Well, glad you didn't." He began ravenously chomping the organs I'd gathered for him. "Oh yeah, this is quality stuff. Mmm!"

I took a seat on the bed and watched him eat for a while, saying nothing. I was too tired to even care about my past anymore. After a time, he'd polished off all the hearts and livers. "Okay girly-girl. As promised, I'll tell you your old name."

"I dunno Quznam, maybe I should wait until morn-"

"Silina."

I froze. Something… was happening. I felt the world bending around me, as though time and space were slipping away and leaving me behind. The room began to stretch, walls wobbling like rubber, the floor running a thousand miles into the distance… I squeezed my eyes shut, but even behind them I could see everything spiraling, spinning, pulling me down, pulling me in, taking me to an entirely different place, a different life. Silina. The name rang in my ears like a church bell. Silina.

Silina.

Silina.

Silina.

"-ina. Silina. Silina. Silina!"

"Huh?" I shook my head. Where was I? Who was I?

"Silina, you still got a brain in yer skull?" a very stern-looking male dwarf shouted, waving his gauntleted hands in my face. "Don't just stand there, kill somethin'!"

"Oh!" I yelped, quickly looking around. I found myself on a windswept, rocky plain. The earth below was hard and rusty, and above glistened a thousand stars, with bands of color streaking across the sky like rivers. Two moons—Azeroth only has one moon, I recalled—shimmered like suns overhead. There were sounds of combat coming at me from every direction: screams, roars, the clash of steel against steel, steel against flesh, the crackle of spells. Dozens upon dozens of dwarves, humans, and other weird humanoids I could not name were locked in conflict with red-skinned… orcs? Was that the word? But orcs have green skin, so these couldn't be orcs. Or could they?

What the hell was happening? Where in Azeroth was I, if I was even on Azeroth anymore? I briefly put my hands to my face, feeling smooth, unblemished skin beneath my declawed fingertips. My palm caught against the silver ring over my left eye. Despite the chaos all around me, one thing was for certain: though I had no idea how it'd come to pass, somehow… I was alive again.

I wasn't going to be for long, though. The dwarf turned to run off, and found himself on the business end of an orcish axe. He went flying, blood spraying from his severed neck. The orc locked his furious eyes on me, let out a snarl, and charged. Not good. Definitely not good.