[Private SRP] Risen From the Ashes

[Sal the Shieldhog]

((This is a private RP between The Madgod and myself.

The dark enveloped him. It wasn't cold, nor was it hot. It just... Was.

He didn't remember much. Nay, he couldn't remember much; yes, that was the problem. All he died remember was the bright flashes of light, then intense pain, and finally, the crushing darkness.

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It wasn't long after the Aspect of Death's Cataclysm before the Dark Lady sent for reinforcements for her army. She sent small parties everywhere, searching, raising indiscriminately. They cared not for whom you were in life; you simply needed to serve in death.

One such party, led by one Commander Acnoctus Shadowspire, and a few Val'akyr, had stumbled upon a massive graveyard in the Arathi Highlands. Perhaps a remnant from the Alliance-Horde war to take back/defend the Highlands. It mattered not; the battlefield and it's inhabitants would serve the Banshee Queen or they would feel Death's cold embrace once more.

[The Madgod]

Acnoctus looked over the piles of corpses that the laborers had unearthed. There was another nearby of Alliance corpses; this one was of fallen Horde soldiers. The val'kyr that had gone with him was busy reanimating the Horde, with mixed results. Some were too unstable and had to be put down - an act gladly filled out by the Deathguard - others did not want to serve, and went to find peace in true death or to wander the remnants of Lordaeron, lost. Others gladly joined the Forsaken, and were shuffling through the portal the magi had created, so that they could be retrained to fight with their... different bodies. The death knight was rather bored. There were many here, but none too many piqued his interest. They were all just (not-so) fresh meat.

[Sal the Shieldhog]

As the labored progressed further and further into the vineyards, they began to unearth the remnants of a massive structure. The Val'akyr grew more and more excited; surely any corpses of note would be within the structure, commanding the common foot soldiers dead outside.

Eventually, after rebirthing many different individuals, some of note, commanders or magisters in life, the throne room was unearthed. The room was largely intact, down under several feet of earth. At the entrance, there were several piles of corpses, obviously panicking at their death trying to escape. On the throne sat a corpse, garbed in ornate elven armor, and sword across it's knees and a shield leaning against the throne.

The Val'akyr began to shout great cries, and the laborers could tell they had unearthed an object of worthy notice. Runners were sent for the commanders.

[The Madgod]

The commander jumped down into the pit in response to the shouts. He walked through the bustling corpses with ease, the lesser undead making way for their leader. Acnoctus entered the throne room; gaudy place - for a mass grave - and looked at the elf on the throne. A spellbreaker? What a rare sight outside of Silvermoon, and even rarer dead. "Well well well, what do we have here?"

Turning to the Val'kyr, the death knight growled, "Reanimate him."

[Sal the Shieldhog]

At Acnoctus' command, the Val'akyr literally jumped. She stood at the base of the throne. Dark energy began to pour forth from her, gathering in a mass on her hands.

The energy began to, slowly, grow. Small tendrils of power reached out to the others, forming a massive shadowy ball. A single tendril, coaxed into existence by the Val'akyr, reached out to the corpse and touched it in the middle of the chest.

This process occurred over the course of many minutes. The only sounds in the room were the mystical chanting of the Val'akyr, the laborers shrieks as small parts of the room began to fall apart from the energy, and a loud droning noise from the magic itself.

After almost a full 10 minutes of this, the chanting stopped, and the corpses eyes opened.

[The Madgod]

((Just so you know sir, there's only three Val'kyr left, if memory serves, and I don't think Acnoctus is important enough to have more than one with him, especially if there's multiple groups searching for new soldiers.))

Acnoctus stood as the Val'kyr performed her task, uncaring for the sounds of terror from the laborers, focusing on how a spellbreaker could be useful as a member of the Forsaken. They were powerful warriors, feared on the battlefield. Few in number even before the Third War, they were all but extinguished. Turning one would be a great achivement for the Forsaken.

The corpse begain to stir, and opened its eyes. Acnoctus stood silent, arms crossed.

[Sal the Shieldhog]

((Bah! Who needs lore? My bad, I've never really thought of them all gone, just those as Sylvanas' personal ones. Either way, I'll change it).

He began to feel something. It wasn't very strong, but it was getting stronger. He didn't remember when it began; he supposed it was part o the Darkness.

The tugging grew stronger. He felt himself being pulled away, and he didn't realize what was happening. Suddenly, the tugging ripped him free, hurtling him back towards... Something.

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Thedelion opened his eyes. He didn't remember he last time he had; every movement felt sluggish. He tried to move, very slowly, but collapsed back down onto the chair, memories flooding back into him. The Alliance, their war-machines, great flashes of light. Screams of terror. His fortress caving in, and him settling down to die on his throne. He remembered the Dark as well, though it was very hazy.

Struggling to do so, he looked around the room, his gaze passing over terrified laborers and a Val'akyr; she seemed to have been the one who raised him. His eyes finally settled on an important looking elf, though he was certainly dead, like Thedelion.

With a start, he realized he was dead. The thought wasn't a good one for him, though he was somewhat comforted by the "second chance" and the knowledge that he could do his people more good.

He finally turned back to the dead elf, slipping into Thalassian, "By the light if the Sun! What have you done to me?!"