"a couple of death knights, ey?" said the hunter, signaling the bar man to bring more booze to their table "Lethean, northrend was it? last time we saw?" playing in on Letheans little game which he had picked up across the room. "but who am i to forget, the lovely female at your side, friends from Archerus?"
Lethean nodded. "Indeed, if I remember correctly. Neyira may not remember you . . . then again, she may."
Neyira stared at Lethean, then leaned in close and whispered in his ear; "What the hell do you think you're doing, Leth?" she asked, growing angry with him, not knowing where he was hoping to get to by conversing with this clearly unknown hunter.
"Seeing if I can get some much-needed information out of him," Lethean whispered back, giving her a lopsided grin that she had grown accustomed to for the past year. Neyira just shook her head, still not sure if this was such a great idea.
"Indeed, I am from Acherus," Neyira said, replying to the hunter's question. "I don't believe we've met before; though surely you have met Lethean. "I met Lethean just a while before the widely-known battle at Light's Hope Chapel - you do know of the battle, don't you?"
"yeah i do, it pains me that so many lives was lost. but again, could we have defeated the lich king without the help of death knights?" the hunter said sadly. "but well, do sit you two" he said signaling to the empty chairs at the table. "also before i forget, i do quite like your name. Neyira, such a fun name to pronounce"
Lethean nodded at the hunter's recounting of Light's Hope. "Indeed. Were it not for the Ebon Blade, Highlord Tirion Fordring would have had quite the troubles creating the Ashen Verdict . . . as well as the forging of Shadowmourne, and our assistance in the Lich King's defeat."
Both death knights took their seats, facing the hunter. Neyira nodded slightly.
"Thank you . . . I think," she replied, icy eyes scanning the room. She didn't see anything, but for some reason, she disliked this place greatly. Lethean, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at home here. Perhaps another bit of history that I have yet to delve in to? she wondered to herself, suddenly curious.
"beer or wine people you two? it's on me" he said as they sat down. he whispered Neyira a couple of times with a slight grin on his face, clearly amused by her name. "what ever happened to shadowmourne anyways? he just kinda stopped hearing about it and it's wielder when the cataclysm hit" he asked, hoping they'd enlighten him abit.
Neyira didn't speak; if Lethean wanted to converse so much with this hunter and find out information, then she'd let him, but she'd have no part in it. Lethean met her eyes for a minute, then sighed.
"We don't drink that much, but a glass of wine would be acceptable. My companion would like one as well, if you don't mind. As for Shadowmourne . . . I must be honest with you, I have no clue as to what happened. Rumour has it that Shadowmourne's wielder returned the blade to Icecrown Citadel, and set it atop the Frozen Throne, to accompany the new Lich King, Bolvar Fordragon, so that "When he awakes, he will have a new blade, pure and unholy to cut down this world, and succeed where Arthas Menethil failed.""
Lethean snorted decisively, and Neyira scowled. "I'm not sure whose mouth that rumour came from, but I am liable to remove it from the speaker's face if I hear that again. 'When he awakes'? 'When'?" Lethean snorted again, smiling. "Foolishness, all of it. Bolvar might be the new Lich King, but he is in a state of dormancy that has an even stronger grip on him than it did on Arthas Menethil. I would be wholly surprised if he were to wake, and even more if he ravaged Azeroth with the Scourge. From what I heard, Bolvar Fordragon took the crown of the Lich King willingly; I personally fought with Bolvar, once before. The incident at the Wrathgate - you may or may not know of it - was obviously where Fordragon met his end . . . or would have, I suppose. His story is a long one, the details grim, but very true." He paused, as their wine was delivered to their table. Lethean didn't hesitate; he snatched up the cup and drank a mouthful. Neyira, on the other hand, sniffed its contents, then wrinkled her nose.
"Why did you get me this," she whispered to Lethean, eyes flaring. "You know I don't drink."
"No," he whispered back, voice filled with venom that had not been there before. "But the more we play to his courtesy, the more we might find out. So drink."
"Find out what?" she snarled, hand clenching around the glass. A spider-web of cracks suddenly appeared, and she forced herself to calm down. What information could Leth possibly want from this thing? she wondered to herself with contempt. As far as I know, he doesn't even actually know this hunter.
"Just play along, will you?" Lethean growled under his breath, then took another sip of wine. "If you'll just stay quiet and play along for five minutes, you'll find out - I promise."
Filled with doubt, yet she knew she had to trust her one and only friend - the only other person that saw her for what she truly was, and not some mindless killing machine like almost every other death knight was thought as. And so she sighed, and forced herself to sip on the wine, trying to not grimace at the unpleasant flavour that was brought to her mouth.
the hunter noticed her unwillingness to drink the wine, "i'm not forcing anyone here" he said "no need to drink if you dont want to". he took a sip of his own wine, "it's actually not that great of a wine they have here. something cheap.. possibly from last year. last year was dreadful for grapes, they taste horrible" he said, obviously knowing a thing a two about wines. he had also heard their little whispers with his trained ear, but let it slip for the moment and ordered some meat for his pet.
Lethean chuckled - an eerie, hollow sound - and Neyira forced herself to not explode in fury.
"Indeed," Lethean spoke easily, nodding his head as if agreeing with the hunter. "Last year was rather horrific; I must agree." He smiled, taking another sip. Neyira tried one more, then scowled and set her cup down, eyes flaring, not meeting Lethean's curious gaze.
"What is it?" he whispered to her, but she didn't reply; she just sat, stone cold, staring into nothing, completely ignoring her friend. Lethean hid his concern and surprise, and continued speaking with the hunter.
Neyira's thoughts were swirling around in her head. Information . . . something no one could even begin to comprehend. He knows me, but he doesn't. He doesn't understand what I have been through. I don't enjoy games, and he knows that, and yet he continues to blithely carry on as if I weren't here. Her scowl deepened, and suddenly, she stood, her chair screeching as it slid back.
"I just need a breath of fresh air - if you don't mind, of course," she said pointedly, locking gazes with Lethean. She could tell he was curious, but he nodded anyway. She lowered her head a bit, then turned and strode from the tavern, the cool mists coming off her runeblades leaving a trail behind her as her boots thunked against the wooden floorboards.
atleast she has some manners he giggled to himself. "whats with her?" he said politely after she had left the room. forgetting how much he despised the wine, he took another sip.
Lethean shook his head, just as confused as the hunter . . . or at least he hoped so. "I don't know," he muttered, his eyes trailing after Neyira. "I think she . . . has a hard time recalling some of her past. It was . . . traumatic . . . to say the least, and it gives her nightmares, even though she rarely sleeps." Nightmares that pain me just as much as they do you, my friend, he thought to himself, suddenly grave in his manner towards the hunter. He was beginning to realize that gaining his information was going to be a tad bit more difficult than he'd hoped.
Neyira stepped out into the night, instantly assailed by the numerous night time sounds of Stranglethorn Vale. Though she cared for very little nowadays, she was still entranced by the beauty some places in Azeroth exhibited. Stranglethorn, for example, was lush, beautiful, and so . . . wild. She loved it. The moonlight reflected off the swirling ocean waters below, casting shadows in every corner. Enchanted by the sight, Neyira went to the edge of the docks and sat, her feet hanging off the edge. She stared into the waters - into her reflection - and suddenly, her lolled gaze was transformed into a scowl as she remembered what she was. For a moment - just one - she had been thrown back in time, when she was just a young night elf . . . still alive, with her entire life to look forward to. A life spent in the beautiful forests of her people; a life filled with love, her future mate, and children . . . "I am your future."
The strange, echoing voice, deeply under-toned . . . his voice . . .
She remembered the Lich King, and Frostmourne; all of it, every horrific detail of her past, from her death at the hands of one of the Lich King's lieutenants, to her agonizing resurrection, to all that she was forced to do. Even after she had been freed, those memories haunted every waking minute of her afterlife, promising no respite. She wasn't even sure if true death could bring her peace now; she was too far gone for that.
"No," she whispered to herself, staring into her reflection. Pale violet skin, long hair as white as fresh snowfall, and glowing, icy blue eyes. The dark plate she wore seemed to be invisible in the waters, making it look as if she were just a head - a head filled with terrifying nightmares, and a traumatizing past.
"No," she repeated silently, staring deep. "You're no longer my future . . . my future lies with my destiny; and that has yet to unfold."
A tear black as night rolled down her face, leaving almost no trace of its existence behind it.
"well, Booty bay is wierd place at nights, i hope nothing happens to her. though i assume she could take care of herself, it'd be easier for all of us if nothing happened to her." Ronald said. "well i assume you want some kind of information? or you wouldn't be sitting next to a random hunter trying your best to seem friendly. would you?"
Lethean tried his best to not look surprised, but in the end failed.
"I do," he said, finishing his wine and placing the cup off to the side. He leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table, and clasped his hands. "You were present during the Wrathgate incident, weren't you? That, or you knew about it . . . no, my true question is, did you know about Putress's betrayal? Did you know about that plague that he unleashed on both living and dead alike?" He paused, staring into Ronald's eyes. "Because, if you did," he continued, "and decided not to speak up, then you caused a lot of good people to die that day. I might care for little now, and I may be a death knight, but it was a dishonourable strike that wiped out almost half of the Horde and Alliance forces in Dragonblight."
So, my question is; did you know?"
"i learned about it a short time before he struck, but knew i wouldn't make it in time. who do you think tipped off the dragons?" Ronald said mirroring the Death knights position. "i guess it's my turn to ask a question? what exactly happened at Light's Hope? i heard the rough points, i want the details"
Lethean felt a quick flash of anger, replaced by sorrow, than indifference, leaving him feeling strangely tired.
"Light's Hope," he murmured, closing his eyes. He heard footsteps, and smiled as Neyira returned and sat, quiet as night. He did not question her; he was just comforted by her presence, as always.
"It's a long story. If you have the time, I will tell it to you. But, if there is something I do not wish to speak of, I would not recommend pressing the matter further." He shrugged. "It's just an insight."
"i have plenty of time Lethean" Ronald said. "especially since there's nothing much to do at the moment, with deathwing dead and all that. so please, do tell. and if there's something you're not comfortable talking about, i wont press the matter further" he said as he ordered some more meat for his pet wolf
Lethean nodded. "Very well." He glanced at Neyira; her demeanour was still stone cold, but at least she was calmed down somewhat. He was still concerned for her, but he wouldn't press her for details until she was ready.
"Light's Hope was a pinnacle for us death knights. I'll start from the beginning of my resurrection, seeing as how it's just before that checkpoint of Azeroth's history." He paused, toying with a fork that had been sitting dormant on the table.
"I remember waking up, not knowing where I was. Truly, I was terrified, unable to pinpoint where I was. When I saw the other death knights, Scourge, and some of the Lich King's lieutenants, I knew I wasn't anywhere safe.
However, I could not bring myself to attack them. As much as I remembered despising the undead, I could not force myself to strike them down. That was when I met Instructor Razuvious - you may remember him, or not - and he told me what had happened, and what I was. When I found out, I found myself holding a hatred unlike any other towards the Lich King; and yet I could not betray and kill him.
That feeling - to know that your actions are being controlled by another, and hating them, but being unable to kill them - that feeling of helplessness eats away at you, until there is nothing left, leaving an empty shell of remorse.
I, along with many other death knights, and many of the Lich King's forces, proceeded to drive the Scarlet Crusade from the Plaguelands. It was training of sorts, for the true battle to come. We almost completely wiped them out, and drove them from The Hearthglen, showing no mercy for the innocents nor soldiers alike. Though it was against my will that I did this, I still felt a savage satisfaction at knowing the Scarlet Crusade would trouble us no longer. Unfortunately, when I discovered Grand Admiral Barean Westwind had decreed that the Scarlet Crusade move into Northrend, therefore becoming the Onslaught, my victory - our victory - was short lived.
The Lich King pushed us away from that, saying it mattered not any more. What mattered was that we find and kill Tirion Fordring."
Lethean paused, looking at Neyira again. She sat, hands clasped in her lap, eyes closed - probably remembering the details of it all.
"That was when I met Neyira; as we were converging upon Light's Hope. Highlord Darion Morgraine had us wait as his necromancers and death knights resurrected more troops. We spoke for a few minutes, then, when all was ready, we charged together, and watched each other's backs the whole time. The details of the battle itself are . . . gruesome to say the least. Blood literally rained from the sky, so devastated our enemies were. And yet, we outnumbered them, and they slowly turned on us, obliterating almost our entire attack force. I had noticed, during the battle, that Highlord Morgraine was having trouble controlling the Ashbringer - at the time, corrupted.
It was eventually me, Neyira, Koltira Deathweaver, Thassarian, Orbaz Bloodbane, and Highlord Morgraine, as well as a few other death knights. Highlord Fordring came out, and stunned us all with the Light . . . I realized that it was still powerful, and I was wrong to turn from it.
We watched as Fordring brought up an image of Highlord Morgraine's past; where his father had met with him and forbid him to join in the battle against the undead. Then . . . "
Neyira spoke, "Then the Lich King approached, absorbing the image and the lost soul of Alexandros Morgraine. He then exchanged taunts with Fordring, before casting some dark spell that wiped out every paladin standing - all but Fordring. He began to absorb Fordring's soul, but Highlord Morgraine tossed the Ashbringer at him, cutting off the Lich King's hold on him and healing the Ashbringer. Arthas, with ease, mortally wounded Morgraine with a blast of shadow magic, but Fordring drove the Lich King back with a well-placed strike, imbued with the Light. The Lich King retreated, swearing this battle was not over."
Lethean nodded, but hearing Neyira's voice again eased his tension somewhat. "Also," he said, meeting Ronald's eyes. "During that exchange of remarks between Arthas and Fordring, the Lich King confirmed that he had sent all of us death knights to our deaths, simply to draw Fordring out of hiding. That information - that confession - pierced me. I knew, then, that trust was a luxury I could never have again. Everything I had once held; love, mercy, compassion . . . none of it mattered any more. All that mattered, was that Arthas died. So it was, when we were freed, and the Knights of the Ebon Blade formed, that I did not travel to Orgrimmar, to make amends with the Horde. Nor did Neyira. No . . . we stayed, we took back Acherus, and we planned on how to advance into Icrcrown, to take the Citadel and defeat Arthas Menethil."
He paused, and Neyira touched his arm. Surprised, he looked down at her, and saw her expression relax slightly, and her posture ease.
"That is what happened. Fordring came out, and through his faith in the Light, and with the assistance of Highlord Morgraine, drove the Lich King into hiding in Icecrown. I know nothing more."
"thats an intresting tale, quite intresting indeed. slightly different from my story to say the least" Ronald said and had a quick flashback to when he was killed and ressurected, "but yeah, your turn i believe Lethean" he said, quickly adding "or Neyira ofcourse"
((Haha, sorry, I'm a bit of a novelist, so I don't quite think when I write things a bit... larger... lol.))
Lethean racked his mind for some sort of question to ask Ronald, but could think of none. Unsure of what to say, he simply stared off into thin air for a moment before Neyira took over.
"How and where did you die? Who was your killer, and did you think to seek revenge before anything else when you were resurrected?" she asked, eyes flaring as she, too, remembered when she had been resurrected. She had sworn to find her killer and make him suffer - and she had. The orc had been in agonizing pain for almost a week before Neyira finally tired and slew him with a swift blow to his neck with Icegore. For a moment, she allowed herself to relish in that memory, and her mouth twisted into a fierce grin.
"i dont quite remember my death, but i was in the Lordaeron military, killed during a Scourge attack in Tirisfal Glades before Arthas killed his father. my ressurection was as a mindless zombie, but yeah, i wanted revenge. sadly however, i dont know who ressurected me, so i'm unable to kill that specific person, but i still relish in killing scourge necromancers, knowing it might be him or her who ressurected me." Ronald said, trying to recall something else that would possibly be intresting about his death.
((and now for lulz, a priest!))
a young human walked into the inn, with black hair tied into a pony tail, hanging down to about his shoulders, and wearing a blue robe, looking like it was homemade. as much as he thought undead were an abomination to the light, he enjoyed company and there were noone else to sit with, so he went up to the Death knights and hunter asking "mind if i sit here?"
Yet another Timewalking loot post ( As directed by GM)
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