A side story inspired by my recent reintroduction into Warcraft.
"I can't believe you." Came a low growl. The growl in question originated from a large pale red Worgen, armored from head to toe in dark blue plate. The various skull motifs and glowing blue sections upon the chest, pauldrons, and helmet would clue most people into the fact that this Worgen was a Death Knight, if his eyes didn't give him away first. Or the aura that exuded from him that sent an unnatural chill into one's spine.
"Don't pin this on me, you overgrown mutt!" Answered his… companion. He had known the rather beautiful red-maned Blood Elf for years, had worked alongside her and fought her countless times since they first met in Dalaran during the Legion's invasion. The arrival of the Demon Hunters that she had led was a welcome reprieve for his own Knights of the Ebon Blade at the time.
They had grown close. Close enough that many thought them married, until the Fourth War. Their split was violent, renowned throughout their respective factions, and they had met on several battlefields since then. It was only due to recent circumstances involving the Shadowlands that they were able to speak without exchanging blows.
"I wasn't the one that decided we had enough time to get a bounty. Oh, the disappointment that Khadgar must be feeling. Deathlord Ludwig and the esteemed Slayer Telaran, late for the airship to the Dragon Isles. The price I pay for agreeing to join you. Again."
"Stuff it, Ludwig. I only pointed it out; you're the one who dragged us all the way to Ratchet to get the bastard."
A moment of grumbling came from the large Worgen, until a begrudging affirmation of her words came from his throat.
"Fine. It was both of our faults. Now let's figure out how we're going to get to the Dragon Isles now that the airship is gone."
With a sigh, both of them glanced around the zeppelin tower that they stood on outside of Orgrimmar, then back to each other.
"Dalaran." They stated in unison. They both pulled out a purple stone and nodded to one another, then they both disappeared.
The Demon Hunter and the Deathlord were well known on Dalaran.
"That doesn't look like the Dragon Isles." Telaran muttered with a frown. The gnome portal mage that stood next to her huffed.
"Do you know what the Dragon Isles look like then, Demon Hunter? If so, then why am I here making a damned portal? By the way, wasn't Khadgar supposed to be taking you there?"
"Settle down, Bergan." Ludwig growled. "It's… possibly the Isles. But shouldn't there be more… dragons? Or something?"
The Gnome blinked twice.
"Dragons? On the Dragon Isles? Oh aye, that there should be. But not in every bloody place on the island! I swear, I have now clue as to how you two managed to lead your respective factions. One has nothin' but rocks in his head, and the other has no sense of logic in her own! A perfect pair. Now get through the portal!"
Both of Bergan's customers paled at his tone as his legendary short temper made itself known. Without further hesitation, they stepped through.
With a sigh, the Gnome allowed the portal to close. He approached his table and glanced down at the open grimoire resting upon the table, then paused.
"Wait… there's a page missing." The Gnome drew closer to it, face blanching. "Ah. That's… unfortunate. Hopefully Khadgar can do without them for a wee while?"
The moment that the two former lovers had exited the portal, it closed. A forest of some kind it seemed, still in the stages of winter. They looked around carefully, Telaran shivering slightly as the cold air made itself known. Having her midriff exposed helped to keep her mobility at its highest, yet it certainly didn't help keep her warm in cold climates. She shivered as she remembered a trip or two to Northrend with the man beside her.
Her attention was drawn to the Worgen when she heard him sniff the air several times. By now, she knew his mannerisms like the back of her hand.
"What's wrong?"
Ludwig gave one more sniff of the air before rolling his shoulders.
"This place smells… wrong. Unnatural."
"Like death?" She asked.
He shook his head.
"Unnatural, Telaran. Death is most certainly a natural thing. No scent of dragons, either. Bergan may very well have screwed up." After a moment, his head turned to his left. "A very faint scent of ash. That way. Reminds me of the scent of Gilneas. Must be old ashes, then. Come."
The Demon Hunter didn't hesitate in following. Ludwig was a damn good tracker, as had been proven multiple times.
And so they marched in silence for nearly an hour, until they caught sight of what looked to have been a village at some point in the past. Now, all that stood were strange statues of creatures that didn't seem familiar to either of them, outside of shaped stone that marked the foundations of buildings. Some were tall and bear-like, others shaped much more like wolves. And yet others looked like enraged apes. Dozens of them, scattered throughout the remnants of the village.
It seemed that they were all looking in the same general direction, towards one statue that loomed over all the others by several feet. A massive ape, missing an arm. A rusted axe looked to be buried in its head, the creature itself almost toppling backwards.
"At its feet," the Death Knight muttered. "A soul, trapped within its deceased body. Tainted, as if something had tried to remove the soul from the still-living flesh… yet failed. I can feel its despair, its torment."
Telaran glanced at the statue's feet and grimaced. Her companion wasn't wrong; there was indeed at least part of a corpse there. A shoulder and an arm raised out from the same stone that it seemed the statues were made out of, looking as if it had tried to claw its way free from the material. It might be a strange angle, but she could reasonably see the rest of the body being entombed within it.
"Think you can get any information from it?"
The Worgen frowned, approaching the skeletal remains slowly.
"I… am unsure. I can smell rot from beneath the stone. There is still flesh preserved there, somehow. Perhaps the brain. With the soul tainted as it is, I cannot rip it free from the corpse with its memories intact. If we can free it from the stone, then perhaps I can raise it. Standard resurrection won't work. I would need to infuse part of my own power into it."
Telaran nodded in understanding as the Worgen spoke. While she herself didn't understand the intricacies of the magics he spoke of and practiced, she had seen all of it in action before. Even what he now spoke of.
The Lich King was not the only one who could raise Death Knights; merely the one that could command their obedience. And now, there reigned no Lich King without the Helm of Dominance.
"Do it. I'll be ready if they're… difficult."
The Worgen nodded. Raising another Death Knight left him vulnerable for a few hours as his own tethers of unlife wavered after the spellcraft. It unbalanced the magics that kept him how he was, and all of his concentration was required to set them right. Such was the burden of his runeblade.
It allowed him to control greater numbers of undead, and amplified his abilities to use frost magic. But the quality of those he raised were… lacking. He had taken to augmentation in the form of encasing them in armor of magical ice. He cared little for the moral implications of either the raising of the dead, nor the enslavement of a soul in the form of a Death Knight. It was a minor matter, after the acts he had committed. He did not regret what he had done, nor would he put even a second thought to committing the atrocities once more. The only regret he held is that he had no control of himself when they happened.
He drew a deep breath, even though air was something he knew he did not require. In one hand he drew the oddly thin and curved runeblade that had been his original weapon, defiled even as he had been. Doomfang, he had named it. His other hand clenched into a fist and burst forward with the strength of a Worgen, enhanced by that of his undead nature. Even as the stone crumbled and the stench of rotting flesh was made known over even his own deathly stench, he plunged Doomfang into the sickly meat of the corpse and focused his magic.
Telaran watched with intrigue, having only seen the process once before. First came necromantic restorative magic, mending the flesh and purifying it of impurities. A previously indiscernible lump of bloated flesh molded itself into that of a human woman, perhaps in her mid twenties. Sinew reconnected with sinew, and attached to bone. Muscle stitched itself together, and skin seemed to regrow over it all. Desiccated clothing mended carefully over her form, until all that remained was the skeletal arm and shoulder. She heard her companion grunt, and watched as the magic focused upon them.
From her understanding, creating tissue was a much more taxing task than simply repairing it. Even Ludwig, with his mastery of his craft, found it to be quite difficult to create it in a state that it could be used. It was complex, and the knowledge of biology required was extensive if one wanted it to behave naturally. At least they learned that she was human before attempting it.
Even so, it shouldn't have been taking him this long to perform the task. It seemed that Ludwig could hear her thoughts, as the next time he spoke answered her unasked question.
"There's something fighting against my magic. Or perhaps… not something. Her. Her soul is powerful, more developed than most I have seen before. Be prepared. I cannot fully restore her limb, at least not to perfection like the rest of her. She may awaken hostile from the pain."
Telaran nodded, watching the human carefully. The skeletal limbs were slowly covered in muscle, only to be swallowed by sickly and poxxed flesh after the muscle had been fully regrown.
And then the woman's pained scream rent the air asunder, taking Telaran by surprise. It sounded like it could have been a name, but whatever was said was swallowed by unrestrained sobbing. At least until a swaying Worgen approached her and placed an armored claw upon her hooded head.
"Be silent, human." He managed, before tumbling to the ground beside her. "The pain will subside as the regrown nerves die again."
The woman blinked, her blue-silver eyes taking in his full form. Then they darted around, expertly taking in her surroundings and Telaran herself. A strange eye color to be sure. She couldn't say she's ever seen a Death Knight's eyes deviate from icy blue.
"A soldier, it seems." The Blood Elf stated. "Settle down. The only threat around here is the mutt."
The woman glanced back at Ludwig, who merely snarled. His eyes closed a moment later, their ethereal blue faintly visible through his furred eyelids.
"Uh… who are you?" The woman asked softly. Her eyes seemed to linger upon the warglaives visible on Telaran's back.
"Telaran, Slayer. The mutt's Ludwig, a bloodthirsty little doggy Death Knight from Gilneas. Excuse his manners, he's a bit tired from bringing you back."
Again, the woman blinked.
"Right. I'm Summer, Huntress from Vale."
Telaran pranced over to Ludwig and placed a bare foot onto his outer thigh.
"You brought her back with her memories even. Props to you, Ludwig."
Another snarl was heard, and this time teeth were bared.
"Remove your foot or I'll bite you."
Summer glanced between the two, confusion still clearly on her face.
"Pardon me, but uh… what exactly are you two? Neither of you really strike me as being Faunus."
"Faunus?" Telaran asked as she shook her head. "No, we are not. My people are the sin'dorai, Blood Elves in the common tongue. This one is Worgen, a human infected with a furry little curse."
Again, Summer blinked.
"I don't think I've heard of either of those. Humans and Faunus are the only two sentient races recorded on Remnant… where did you come from? Outside the Kingdoms, I would guess. But then… how have you evaded discovery so far?"
"Not from your planet, lady." The Death Knight muttered. "Portal mage screwed up. Sent us elsewhere. Apparently a different planet… which will make leaving rather difficult."
"At least we have an excuse for potentially being months or years late to the Dragon Isles." Telaran snorted. "How's the arm, Summer?"
The woman glanced down as she moved the limb, wincing as she caught sight of it.
"The pain is fading. I can still feel other things with it though, is that normal?"
"Yes," Ludwig answered. "No Death Knight feels pain unless they're dealing with the Light. Make no mistake, we are dead. The stench of rot, of death, shall follow us perpetually. No longer do we breathe, unless you make yourself do so. Blood will not flow through us, unless we make it. A blade through our hearts will not kill us, a head missing from our shoulders shall not release us. Our very souls must be unbound from us, should we wish to pass on. It is a thankless existence, full of avoidance, discrimination, and paranoia." He bared his teeth into a grin, revealing his large, sharpened canines. "I wouldn't change it for anything."
The woman shivered as she heard the euphoria within Ludwig's tone. With a sigh, she lay onto her back and looked up into the sky. Almost immediately, she began to stand up as she caught sight of the axe buried in the massive stone ape.
"Sundered Rose!" She exclaimed, leaping up to it. She grabbed it and pulled, yanking the rusted weapon free.
"Your weapon, then?" Telaran asked.
Summer nodded happily as she seemed to caress the pitted blade of her weapon fondly. "It is. It's served me well for… most of my time as a Huntress, actually. I'll have to melt it down, remove the impurities in the metal that the rust will bring…"
"Or," the Demon Hunter muttered, "I can do this." She gathered her demonic magic into her hand, pushing it towards the axe. "Take my hand, and think of how the weapon was before. Exactly how it was, mind you, else the magic will… deviate."
Summer didn't hesitate, earning a mental snort from the Blood Elf at the woman's ability to trust others. It would get her killed one day. Again.
The magic burned away the rust coating the weapon, repaired the pits within the metal, and slowly faded afterwards.
Telaran would nod semi-approvingly at the weapon, though she would admit that she didn't quite understand the purpose of a few components until Summer shifted it into a rifle, then slung it over her shoulder.
"Thank you, both of you. I don't really know what to say."
Ludwig stood, clearly still weakened, though not as significantly as he had been.
"Do not thank us yet. You don't know what we might ask you to do."
"You've given me the chance to go home to see my daughters. That is something I will always thank you for."
Ludwig raised an eyebrow. "Summer, how long do you think you were dead? The only reason there was anything left of you to raise is because of whatever material these statues are carved out of."
She cocked her head slightly. "Carved? Oh, no. They're not carved. They're frozen Grimm. Dead, all of them, except for maybe that Beringel Alpha that Sundered Rose was buried in. But… I don't know how long I've been… gone. There used to be a village here. I helped the people escape, but that Alpha was smarter than I thought it would be. Very uncanny, really, and unusual." She glanced around once more, brow furrowing as she began to put together some pieces of information. "Perhaps a decade. Maybe a bit longer. Ruby will be a young woman by now, and Yang might even be married."
Telaran could see the flash of fear go through Summer's face, of carefully hidden shock. And then, controlled rage.
"Salem will pay for taking me away from my daughters." The words were quiet, low enough that a human may not have heard them. But neither Ludwig nor Telaran were human. Both relied on other senses than sight, and had incredibly sharp hearing.
"Salem sounds like an excellent start." Ludwig stated with a grin. "Let us get our bearings, and we shall go."
