Undeath Beckons

Chapter 8 – Hallow's Beginning

LOADING…

FETCHING CHARACTER DATA…

CHARACTER SELECTED: BLIGHTFIRE

ENTERING WORLD…

I pushed Mitexi sideways, sending her sprawling to the dirt as I quickly dove in the other direction. The Horseman barreled past us into the waiting blades of the Deathguards. I pegged him with a Curse of Agony and a Corruption as he went by, causing his flesh to begin peeling. Hooves collided with armor as the Deathguards scattered around the specter, and he wheeled his steed back for another pass.

"Harken cur! Tis you I spurn!" he cackled, "now feel… the burn!" A massive, orange globe flew from his hand—wait, where was his head?—and latched itself onto the skull of one of the Deathguards. The man stumbled about wildly, flailing. I could smell burning flesh in the air as the object burst into flames. Ouch.

Mitexi was on her feet again, firing off spells at her usual rapid pace. Between the two of us, we appeared to be doing substantial damage to the Horseman; he was riding in an uneven zigzag as he came our way. I leapt out of his path again. The remaining Deathguards were hot on his trail, save for the one with the blob on his head, who was dead or close to it. Yet even with our efforts, it seemed the Horseman wasn't going down easily. We needed something more. Something to enhance our powers.

I wracked my brain for anything that might help. Max hadn't taught me much beyond the few spells I'd been using, but… yes, there it was, lurking in my memories like a hidden treasure. As Silina, I'd been aware of far more powers than I could currently recall, but some of them were still back there somewhere, waiting. I cried out in Demonic and struck the rider with a Curse of Elements. Immediately, the flames of Mitexi's Immolate grew higher, and her Shadow Bolts exploded in wider bursts. Excellent! It was working!

Our barrage quickly slowed and crippled the horse. It tumbled sideways, casting the ghoul to the hard earth. He was on his feet in moments and swung into melee with a Deathguard, parrying and striking like a madman. But he was losing, and he knew it. After only seconds on his feet, a final slew of Shadow Bolts knocked him prone. The Deathguards stood back, waiting to see what would happen.

From overhead we heard another deep laugh. "So eager you are, for my blood to spill. Yet to vanquish me, 'tis my head you must kill!" I spotted the Horseman's head zipping away into the forest. It was gone before I could blink twice. The air grew still, and the smoke from the extinguished fires began to dissipate.

Forsaken started peeking out of their homes as Mitexi and I helped the Deathguards carry the corpse of their fallen comrade. The object that had incinerated his face was, oddly enough, a pumpkin. The body of the Horseman melted into the earth just seconds after its demise, leaving us with no clues to his whereabouts or loot to aid in our future defenses—for I assumed there would be another attack. It seemed inevitable, and from the way the Forsaken shouted before the Horseman arrived, this wasn't the first time they'd dealt with him.

A couple of Deathguards took the body to the graveyard, while the remainder invited us to Gallows' End Tavern for a drink. Mitexi and I agreed without hesitation. We could use something to calm our nerves after our climactic arrival. The tavern was a large, bright building, with two floors and spacious seating. We gathered around a table near a glowing hearth, and the barkeep—she introduced herself as Renee—brought a round of Dwarven Stout.

The guards told us their names one by one: Cyrus, Linnea, Simmer, Lundmark, and Terrence. Cyrus, clearly the senior among them, explained their situation: the Horseman had assaulted the city several times in the last week. Their courier went out after the third attack, and so far we were the only ones who'd answered the summons. The town was beginning to fall apart at the seams; every strike drove more and more Forsaken to seek refuge in Undercity. Agents of the Banshee Queen were too occupied with Scourge infringements at the Bulwark and Alliance incursions from Silverpine to assist, so Brill was left to rely on its Deathguards as its sole defense.

"And believe me," Cyrus concluded, "we're getting sick of fending off that pumpkin-tossing bastard." He pounded down his mug of ale.

"We're really glad you're here," Simmer commented. "Bout time they sent someone out of Deathknell. Lately the flow of new bodies has dwindled."

Linnea chimed in, "Seems the number of undead surviving the transformation from Scourge to Forsaken is shrinking, so I hear." She took a sip.

"Aye," a few others agreed.

We ordered another round. "Sho have you gotten your candy from Renee yet?" Lundmark asked us eagerly.

I shook my head. "Candy?"

"Yesh, your Hallow's End treat bag!" he exclaimed. "Didn't you notice the decorations? …hic!"

Mitexi and I looked at our surroundings. Sure enough, the Tavern was bedecked in elaborate festive attire: small cutouts of ghosts, gourds, and skulls hung from the walls and rafters; jack-o-lanterns burned with a warm glow in various corners; and a large tub filled with water and apples rested near the bar, waiting for participants to make fools of themselves. I chuckled. What kind of buffoon would dunk his head in a tub like that just to get an apple?

Three drinks later I found myself kneeling beside the basin, hair pulled back and face dripping. "Blight! Blight! Blight!" Mitexi and a few others chanted excitedly, screaming and clapping as I caught my breath. I thrust my head in again, clunking craniums with Deathguard Linnea as we both went for the same piece of fruit. I growled underwater at her, and she backed off. Damn right. Step off bitch. I burst back to the surface with the shiny red apple clutched between my teeth, eliciting a victorious roar from Mitexi and my teammates.

My vision swam a bit as I wiped my hair dry with my robes and took a few bites of the apple. Mitexi was next; I helped tie her hair back, and in she went. I applauded and cheered for her each time she surfaced, laughing with the other Deathguards at the expressions on her face as she inhaled water and sputtered. Ah, this was fun! What a relief to be able to relax for a while.

We finished our game and the Deathguards returned to their posts outside. Cyrus paid the tab for the evening, telling us he owed more than just a round of drinks for the assistance we'd provided. As they left, I recalled Lundmark's comment about the Hallow's Eve treats. Mitexi and I met with Renee, and received gift bags. We tore them open impatiently.

"Whoa! Check thish out!" Mitexi cried. She held up a flimsy paper mask. "I'm an orc!" she growled, her face now concealed by green skin and prominent canines.

I pulled a weird seed from my bag. "What ish this? …hic!" I asked.

Mitexi stared at it, mystified. "Ooo," she whispered. "That'sh… whoa."

"You're quite lucky!" Renee said, walking up beside us. "That's a Sinister Squashling. If you care for that seed properly, it will sprout into a small plant that can follow you around."

"Shinishter… Shquashling?" Mitexi repeated, slurring.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Seriously?" As strange as it sounded, I was intrigued. "What does the plant do?"

"Nothing really," she explained. "But it's fun to have a pet, and a Squashling is easy to care for." She filled me in on proper growing procedures. Seemed simple enough: pouch with soil, water twice a day, keep near flowing air. I thanked her and inquired about a room. "Oh, yes, we do have a room available," she told me, fetching the key. "It'll be ten silver per night for both of you."

I turned to Mitexi. "How much you got on you?"

She patted her pockets and began scrounging through her travel bag. "Erm… like twenty copper."

"Yeah, I only have three shilver," I retorted. Turning back to Renee, I said shyly, "Um, any chance we can owe you and pay later?"

She sighed. "Well, you wouldn't be the first rookies from Deathknell to come wandering in here penniless. Yeah, I'll lend you the room for a night, but you need to pay me tomorrow, understand? I don't care how. You can find work in the morning; I'm sure the Magistrate or Executor can dig up something for you to do." She passed us the key. "First door on the left."

"Thank you," I said, catching Mitexi's arm and leading her upstairs. We both wobbled a bit as we walked. Whew, that Stout really hit hard. It was beginning to grow dark outside, and both of us were exhausted from our day of travel and combat. The room was tidily prepared as we entered.

"You wanna jusht go to bed?" Mitexi asked. She stumbled and fell on the mattress. "Hehe!" she giggled.

"I… eeeyah… guessh so," I responded, yawning. We'd been given a chamber with separate beds, and that suited me fine; while I didn't mind sharing with Mitexi, she did tend to steal the blankets, I'd discovered. We readied ourselves and were soon fast asleep, the sounds of the forest lulling us into quiet, drunken slumber.

The next morning, Renee offered us a light meal before directing us to Executor Zygand. He was outside, mounted astride a skeletal horse. The beast had blue trappings, but was otherwise entirely skin and bone, minus the skin. Zygand—his bald head pale and spotted with disease—narrowed his fearsome orbs at us as we approached.

"Executor Zygand," I began, "we are newcomers from Deathknell. I'm Blightifre, and this is Mitexi."

She waved. "Heya."

"We're trained as warlocks, and we're seeking work here in town. Do you have any paying jobs we could take on?"

He remained stone-faced as he said, "Brill is in need of more blankets for our wounded troops. Mrs. Winters has been working hard on stitching new ones and is making good progress, but I'm sure she could use a bit of help. I'll give you a few copper for each blanket you complete. That should be a manageable task for you little girls. Can't have you going out into the field getting in fights."

"What?" I replied indignantly. "Excuse me?" Zygand paused, and turned his unreadable gaze upon me. I could feel the black blood in my veins boiling with anger.

"Blight," Mitexi murmured worriedly, still grinning from ear to ear at our benefactor, "heh heh, what are you doing?"

I continued, "With all due respect, Executor, we are trained fighters, not weak seamstresses! We are more than capable of taking on a field mission!"

"Bliiiight," Mitexi hissed urgently, elbowing me in the ribs with her bony arm. "Shut uuuuup…"

"And frankly I find your attitude toward women appalling. Just because I'm female, that makes me unable to handle myself in combat? I could take you right now. C'mon, hop off that horse. I'll show you how a little girl fights." I was breathing hard.

Zygand rubbed his chin. A crooked, slightly malicious smile spread across his face. "You fancy yourselves pretty powerful then, do you? Perhaps I have something more in line with your… 'abilities'." He gestured at a pair of large Wanted posters on the wall of the town hall behind him. "Take a look at those."

I moved quickly and gave them a once-over. The first: "Wanted Dead: Captain Melrache. Commander of Scarlet Crusade forces west of the Scarlet Monastery. Known operations center at Faol's Rest, northeast of Brill. Wanted for the murder of dozens of Forsaken, the interruption of critical supply caravans, and other varied crimes carried out by Scarlet agents at his behest. Bring his disgusting head to Executor Zygand for a reward." The second: "Wanted Dead: Maggot Eye. A brutal gnoll leader last seen pillaging graves near Garren's Haunt. Wanted for the theft of corpses deemed fit for transformation into Forsaken. Deliver his paw to Executor Zygand for a reward."

Returning to Mitexi and the Executor, I announced, "Now that's more like it." Mitexi shot me a nervous glance.

"Glad to hear it. Fifty silver for each of you for every bounty you bring back," Zygand replied forcefully. We remained standing beside him for a moment, waiting. He looked at us. "You need something else? Get moving."

Mitexi snagged my arm like a wolf clamping down on a rabbit and yanked me away from the Executor. As she and I walked north into the forest, she shrieked, "What the heck were you thinking?"

"What do you mean?" I asked. "He was screwing with us. Sewing blankets? That's bullshit. We're highly skilled warlocks, Texi."

She bit her lip. "I know that, but… well, you didn't have to be so rude about it."

"I don't think I was that rude, but whatever."

Mitexi stared at me with minor confusion in her eyes. "What's gotten into you Blight? You're acting weird."

"I…" but then I stopped, because I realized she was right. This wasn't like me. I'd happily taken on every task given to me in Deathknell, no questions asked. Why was I suddenly talking back to superior officers and making demands of strangers? Going quiet, I nodded solemnly. "You're right. Sorry." I couldn't put my finger on why I'd been so… rambunctious.

Mitexi and I discussed our options. More Scarlets seemed manageable, but her experiences with them so far had been less than ideal, so we opted to take on Maggot Eye at Garren's Haunt first. It was a relatively short hike north along a wide dirt road before we spotted a bedraggled wooden sign indicating the way. Two miles. Cakewalk. We took the path and passed through the forest, soon finding ourselves in a hilly, desolate grassland. The roar of the ocean could be heard not too far off now; Mitexi informed me that Tirisfal bordered the Great Sea, and many of the area's farms were built along the high bluffs overlooking the coast. Garren's Haunt, it seemed, was one such locale.

We first realized we'd arrived by the smell: rotting meat and stinking gnoll fur caked with feces and filth. A party of two undead gnolls patrolled the entry to the farmstead. Their skin was mottled with patches of decay, and beneath their crude cloth hoods shined sickly red eyes mounted in desiccated skulls. The gnolls were armed with crude maces.

Mitexi and I found a safe place to hide as we summoned our imps. They chattered quietly at one another in Demonic. "Pipe down you two!" I ordered, hushing them immediately. "We're taking on a farm full of zombie dog-men. You ready?"

Quznam stuck out both pointer fingers at me and wiggled his thumbs, making a clicking sound as he did so. "Ehhh!" he squeaked. I rolled my eyes. Figures I'd get a cheeky imp. Mitexi's was much better behaved: he was already by her side, waiting patiently with his head down. I pointed sternly at Quznam, and he zipped it.

"On my mark," I whispered as the gnolls drew near. "…now." We both let loose a flood of spells. In seconds, the gnolls were burning up and breaking down under a slew of fireballs and Shadow Bolts. They yipped and howled fiercely, yet didn't even make it close enough to us to swing their weapons before collapsing into lifeless heaps. Nothing to it. I eyed the bodies hungrily… but this wasn't the time for that.

"Over there!" Mitexi gasped. "Isn't that the gnoll from the poster?" She pointed at the farmhouse; a quick look confirmed her observation. Maggot Eye was walking just inside the front doors, with a pair of burly guards at either side of the entrance. Without wasting a moment, I charged forward, letting a Curse of Agony fly. The guards came at me with swords raised; Quznam and Daguri pelted them with fireballs and Mitexi did her best to bring them down quickly. It appeared that Maggot Eye hadn't noticed our assault. With the guards dead—I'd suffered only a minor scratch, which a linen bandage quickly relieved—the four of us made our way to the doorframe and peered inside.

The farmhouse was in ruins. Clearly this was where the gnolls brought their spoils after each raid: the walls were splattered with dried gore, and the floor groaned beneath the weight of bones picked clean by sharp teeth. Maggot Eye was nowhere to be seen. I entered first, boldly. Proudly. Stupidly.

The gnoll leapt from the shadows, barely missing me with a titanic stone hammer. I dove into the bones and rolled aside just as he slammed down his weapon where I'd been lying. With a battle cry, Mitexi and the imps entered the room, setting fire to our assailant in moments. I succeeded in climbing to my feet. The gnoll was resisting some of their spells, it appeared, and came rushing at me again, giggling in a high-pitched voice. I ducked a swing and unhooked the staff from my back. Fine. If he wanted to play rough, I could play rough.

A new curse suddenly materialized in my brain: Curse of Weakness. I laid it on Maggot Eye, and watched the muscles in his revolting arms shrivel. His next swing was almost too easy to dodge, and I countered with a wallop from my staff. The gnoll was starting to look worn out; bleeding wounds had appeared across his body. But even so, he continued relentlessly trying to pummel me, and I took a few good blows to the chest, causing me to cry out.

"Leave her alone!" Mitexi bellowed, launching a massive Shadow Bolt. It collided with the gnoll's head and kept going, taking the beast's slavering jaws with it. Maggot Eye fell to the floor, deader than at any previous moment.

"Thx," I sputtered, trying to catch my breath. Mitexi came to help me up, and the two of us hobbled out of the house. I felt better within a minute or so. No major damage. "Nice work in there," I told her.

She smiled back.. "Thanks. You too."

"Okay," I said, "on to… oh, hold on. The paw." I returned to the body of Maggot Eye and, using one of my fingernails, severed his hand. What an utterly putrid creature, I thought. And yet some part of me, some deep, dark part… was a bit hungry. I dug out a tiny chunk of flesh from his flank and held it between my cold fingers. What would Mitexi say if she saw me doing this? I looked left, then right… and that's when I spotted the chest.

It was a pretty sweet haul, all told. Mitexi was more than willing to split our spoils in a fair manner, so we divvied up the money in the chest. She took the enchanted gloves since she had no magical items, and I claimed the remainder of the goods—a Tirisfal pumpkin, some questionable cheese that I was still willing to eat, a flask of ruby-colored potion, and a bunch of Peacebloom. We stole out of Garren's Haunt and made for Faol's Rest, our second and final destination. So far, this was pretty easy. Would Captain Melrache go down in a similar manner?

We were soon to find out, for after half an hour of hiking, the tower at Faol's Rest rose in the distance, its top enshrouded in light gray fog. I spotted a number of Scarlet Friars and Neophytes milling about the area, some attentive, others slacking. If we played our cards right, we could make it around the foothills and approach the tower from the north, thus bypassing all the opposition. Mitexi agreed to the plan. We spent another few minutes clambering over stones to reach a vantage point. From here I could see through a large hole in the wall of the wrecked tower. Our quarry was inside. There was a doorway leading into the structure, watched over by two Scarlet Vanguards.

"Imps," I commanded, "you'll be on the left guard. Mitexi, you take the one on the right." I lowered my voice to a menacing rumble. "Leave Melrache to me." Seconds before giving the order to attack, I paused. Movement in the tower.

"Isn't that…?" Mitexi started.

"Yeah," I whispered back. "It is."

David Trias, currently Deathknell's most wanted, was coming down the stairs with a smug grin on his undead face. A red and white tabard hung about his torso, and alongside him strode a muscular human man with crimson armor on one shoulder and a large, curved axe strapped to his back. They were talking in low voices. I couldn't make out the words.

"What should we do?" Mitexi asked uneasily.

"Let's wait," I answered, narrowing my eyes. "We'll see what happens." David and the man reached the bottom of the staircase. Captain Melrache gave them a stiff salute—so David was his superior now. Interesting. Something even more fascinating happened next: David took a few leaves of paper from his tunic and handed them to Melrache. The Captain glanced at them, nodded in approval, and saluted again. David and his burly associate left the tower out the front entrance, and soon the sound of hoofbeats filled the air. They were gone.

"We've got to get those papers," I told Mitexi hurriedly. "Stick to the plan. Let's go!" I fired off two Curses of Weakness, crippling the Vanguards. Melrache heard the commotion and rushed out, just in time to see a Shadow Bolt flying at his face. He dodged. Hm, not bad. I let my teammates handle the Vanguards while I began my rotation of spells against the Captain, most of which he shrugged off. The sword in his hands gleamed in the fading light of the afternoon as he rushed toward me, shield raised. I darted away, throwing spells over my shoulder. Bastard was fast.

Needed a diversion. C'mon Silina, what do you have for me? Anything? Yes… a mumbled incantation. I could sense its power. This spell would cause an icy chill to run down the spine of the afflicted. Before their eyes would dance the stuff of nightmares: monsters, ghosts, all manner of terrifying experiences from life and childhood. I whirled and faced the Captain. He seemed undeterred by my sudden tactical shift. No matter. He would soon know Fear.

I rattled off the Demonic words with ease and sent him into a haze of horror. In seconds he was running from me as fast as he could, and I fired a hail of Shadow Bolts after him, shattering his legs. He fell. I strode calmly to his crippled form.

"Please," he groaned in surprisingly good Gutterspeak, eyes wide with fright as he stared up at me. "Spare me!"

"Scarlet filth," I spat. "Burn in the Nether!" A quick blast of Immolate, followed by Conflagrate. His chest exploded. I turned away, feeling the satisfying splatter of blood and flesh against my cheek. Another foe defeated.

"Blight!" Mitexi called. She hustled over. "Nice job!" She stared at the exposed innards of the former Scarlet Captain with… oh, yes. Excellent. I knew that look quite well.

"Hungry?" I asked her, gesturing downward.

She gawked at me, wide-eyed. "W-w… what?"

I paused. "Don't tell me you aren't thinking about it?"

Mitexi made a conflicted face. She looked at me, then at the steaming body, then at me again. "But… should we?" Her features twisted as she fought an internal struggle. "I mean, I've considered it before, but… I don't know Blight, I just… it's… it's so inhuman."

I knelt down, beckoning for her to join me. "Mitexi," I said gently. "We're not human. Not anymore."

She smiled uneasily at me. "I guess you're right."

I reached into Melrache's torso and—with a few quick slices from my claws—extracted the man's heart. I severed the left ventricle. "Here, try this." She took it and slid it tentatively into her mouth. Chomp. Her orbs grew wide.

"Oh wow… that's unbelievable…" She held out a shriveled hand. "Pass me another piece of that heart." I did so. "Mm, gods… I can't remember anything ever tasting this good," she moaned happily. "Guess I'm a cannibal through and through."

I winked at her. "Now you're talking like a Forsaken."

I slammed the bloody, severed head of Captain Melrache onto the table alongside Maggot Eye's filthy paw. Executor Zygand slowly lowered his tankard of ale, and turned a very surprised face toward me. The Tavern had gone quiet. Everyone was watching Mitexi and me as we stood confidently beside the Deathguard and his friends.

"That'll be a gold each, if you please," I said coolly. Zygand looked down at the two disembodied appendages again, then back up at me, then back down again.

"Ahem," Mitexi added. Good girl. She was getting the hang of this.

Without a word, Zygand slowly reached into his coinpurse, extracted two glistening gold pieces, and laid them on the table. Then he grabbed his mug and returned to drinking. Mitexi and I took our money and left the Taven quickly, strutting a little as we exited.

"Bad ass!" Mitexi exclaimed as we got outside. "Man, that was awesome!"

I grinned at her. "Damn right. I think we taught him an important lesson today, my friend." I jiggled the Scarlet documents I was carrying in my hand. "Now, shall we see about these papers?" We made our way to the town hall and marched confidently up to the raised desk at the far end of the room, amidst turning heads and murmurs of protest.

"Magistrate Sevren?" I asked purposefully.

The stately Forsaken man at the desk looked up at me slowly. "And just who might you be?" he questioned, putting down the sheet he was holding. "I'm very busy, you know."

"I'm Blightfire," I replied. "This is my friend Mitexi. We're here on a matter of urgency regarding the Scarlet Crusade."

He sighed. "Yes?"

I placed the papers on his desk, knocking over a small stack of documents already piled there. "I think these will be of interest to you."

Sevren picked up the papers, slid a monocle over one eye, and studied them for a moment. "Hmm… oh, interesting… uh huh… right." He set them down. "You did well to bring these to me. Where did you acquire them?" I explained our combat with Captain Melache. "I see. You recognize this seal, then? On the bottom?"

I nodded. "Emblem of the Trias family. I've seen it before." I mentioned that we'd seen him at the tower.

"Indeed. Word was sent from Deathknell a few days ago to be on the lookout for that traitor. Thanks to your efforts, it would appear that an opportunity to capture him may soon arise." Sevren quickly scribbled some notes on a blank sheet and melted a bit of wax onto the bottom. He pressed his signet ring into the molten goo, sealing it.

"Sir?" I commented.

"Take this," he instructed, handing me the Scarlet papers and the freshly sealed memo, "to the Rogues' Quarter of Undercity, and show it to Carolyn Ward. She'll give you further instructions." He sat down again and picked up his work, clearly indicating that our conversation was over. Although I felt a bit irked by his rude dismissal, I kept my mouth shut and began to walk away. "Oh, and Blightfire?" Sevren called after me.

"Yes?"

"Good work out there."

"Thank you Magistrate." Mitexi and I left the building feeling slightly discouraged. No parade? No party in our honor? No phat lewtz? The citizens of Deathknell were a lot more grateful when I put an end to their Scarlet problem.

"Guess we should get to Undercity," Mitexi said absentmindedly.

"Yeah. Let's close up our tab at the Tavern." We ventured inside and found Renee. She was more than happy to take what we owed her. As we were about to leave, she caught me by the shoulder.

"Did you still want to start growing that Squashling?" she asked me earnestly. A small pouch full of soil was produced from her pocket. "I've already got the supplies ready. Just put the seed in here, water it twice a day, and you'll see it bloom in no time."

I agreed to the transaction and affixed the pouch to my travel bag. Caring for a plant wasn't exactly the most thrilling pastime I could think of, but it would be interesting to see what came of it. Mitexi and I left the tavern with a smile and a wave. We now stood on the packed dirt road, which gave way to cobblestones a few dozen yards ahead. Brill was at our backs.

"So… are we set?" Mitexi asked me earnestly. "I'm really excited to get to Undercity! I haven't been there since… well, since it was Lordaeron."

"Yes, I'm ready," I murmured, again lost in my thoughts. We were making a name for ourselves, that much was clear. But I didn't feel any closer to my goal of finding Dystressi, or understanding what my connection was to her. Perhaps some clues were waiting in the Forsaken capital, the hub of Horde activity and culture in this part of the world. If anyone had information on the comings and goings of rogues like Dystressi, it'd be someone in the Rogues' Quarter. Silina, my past self, was also nagging at my thoughts: How had I become undead? Who was I before? Judging by the dream I'd had a few days ago, I must've been someone relatively important, and a member of the Alliance to boot. Was the Alliance searching for me? What had I left behind?

For now, I had little choice but to continue down this path. The answers to my questions would present themselves eventually. Until then, I settled upon ambitions befitting someone of my natural talent: regain my lost skills, the spells I'd known as Silina; obtain the level of prestige fitting for a Forsaken of my high intellect and ability; learn to summon all manner of demons, and even bend the very forces of the Fel itself to my will.

I wanted to strike fear into the hearts of my enemies.

I wanted to command respect, through any means necessary.

I wanted to control all those who would dare to stand against me.

Maximillion was right. I did have a lust for power.