"The Butcher of Blackwald": Chapter III

by **Sir Lancelot** Fri Dec 03, 2010 10:48 am

The Butcher of Blackwald

Chapter III

„Undeath”

Transmission from life to undeath happened for me in an instant.
Of course by then I couldn’t remember my previous life, I was a blank slate. It was like being born again, as another being and it most certainly felt like it. Consciousness had struck me with a force of a thunder.
The darkness was replaced by a view of morning sky, clear sky.
My first sensations were rather pleasant, the feel of cold ground beneath me, the chilly wind against my rotten skin…the sun on the sky and its scorching rays upon my ruined face. Then it was covered by a shadowy figures standing above me, clad in black hooden robes.
“Rise…” – one of them said
“From now on, you shall serve the Lich King, true master of this world, His will shall be your commandment”

And so it begun, in the life I was a master, now I was reborn to be a slave under the tyranny of the Frozen Throne.
It was after Arthas have fused with Ner’zhuls spirit and defeated Illidan. He sat on his throne on the top of the Icecrown Glacier and turned his gaze on Azeroth. He needed an elite fighting force, more disciplined than ghouls or zombies, the extension of his dreadful will. The first Death Knights were raised, Kel’Thuzad would send Cult of Damned necromancers to search for the most hated diseased individuals, former criminals, madmen and murderers all across the world and resurrect them, binding their souls to the Frozen Throne for eternity. I was one of them…

They found my grave in Silverpine Forest, apparently after my death, my corpse would have been disposed of and buried outside the Gilneas so nobody would come looking for it or blame my executioners for my disappearance from the prison. I have to admit I was lucky they didn’t burn it or anything, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this now. Anyway, apparently I had laid there for a very long…long time. The Second War raged across the continent of Lordaeron, humans and orcs clashed above my decomposing body, giving birth to a hate between two races which would last till now. Then twenty five years later, new enemy would rise, the Burning Legion and its sidekick, the Scourge and Silverpine forest was drown in blood again as remnants of Lordaeron would desperately fight off the undead armies. I lied there when expedition of Night Elves led by Tyrande Whisperwind and Malfurion Stormrage battled Illidan’s nagas and the Scourge which was no longer, the ally of Burning Legion. I also missed the civil war and the rebellion of Sylvanas against the Arthas who would claim himself to be a king of Lordaeron at that time.

No…I was rised years after it while Scourge waged full scale war against the Forsaken and the living. I had sold my soul to the Lich King…I had no choice, no free will. I was a slave, a cog in the mighty war machine of the Scourge. For four years I have killed in the name of the Lich King. I wasn’t mindless of course like the rest of the Scourge army. Death Knights were the best warriors of the Scourge and so, they had minds of their own, yet still bound to the Frozen Throne.
I had no idea where I came from and the Lich King would whisper in my head controlling my thoughts. I was soulless rotten husk…although my terrifying looks were more a results of the mutilation I was put to shortly before death than the decay inside my grave.

How I experienced the undeath for the first time? Having no memories of pre-death life and thus, no comparison

I had no eyes yet I could see, my empty eye sockets burned with necromantic magic, I could not talk of course because I lacked a tongue by then, it wasn’t very hindering as most of the Scourge minions did not talk at all and other Death Knights weren’t especially talkative anyway. I felt no pain as my nerve synapses were partially rotten, I could sense the touch but not the pain. I could never die of course, I was bound to the Lich King forever, in case of being wounded terribly I would be just resurrected once again, or fixed by the necromancers. I had mastered my combat skills and I could wield a two handed sword with ease, I had my faithful stead at my side and a full plate armor to wear. I sharpened my teeth not to cause terror but because they were an effective weapon as in combat I was a beast, if I had lost my sword I would bite into my enemies throats and taste their blood. In my life, I loved the carnage, now I did it because I was commanded to, I had no emotional feelings toward what I did whatsoever.

Deep inside, I hated the Lich King, I think all of us have, I wanted to know who I was and where I came from. Such things could never be achieved while being a slave to the Lich King. And I had soon found out that despite of my best efforts to serve him, I was still a mere pawn in his hands when I stood there in front of Light’s Hope with Mograine and found out the truth.

Knights of the Ebon Blade were formed and the constant whispers of the Lich King have ceased…and then I was truly alone. The loss of my bond to my former master had disastrous effects on me. I had no purpose of existence anymore. I was alone in a world that saw me as a monster and my freedom affected me with some of my memories returning, memories of the previous life. I’ve lost my sanity, being torn between old memories and realism of who I was. I think I was very close to becoming a ghoul. Knights of the Ebon Blade would part their ways, rejoining their older factions…where would I go? Gilneas was separated from the outside world by a wall, erected long after my death and no one knew what was truly happening there.

Had it not been for the Prophet of the Cult of Shadow , I would degenarate into ravaging ghoul, pathetic creature lost in its insanity. She showed me the truth, she showed me the path of Shadow, something that would finally put my mind at ease.
It worked…my sanity was back along with my memories, I was finally complete, suddenly I knew it all, the purpose of my existenceand who I truly was.

Slavery of the Scourge have nearly destroyed me, true they have resurrected me but what a price I had to pay…for my undeath…I finally knew its meaning. I became one of the Forsaken, I have pledged my loyalty to the Banshee Queen. She was an example for us all.

And what is most important…I knew I was Forsaken long time before the Third War had ever happened, back in Gilneas, I knew the perfection of death and now as a Forsaken I would finally become one with it. Death means an ascendance, from miserable fleshy life into the divinity. Undead are the perfect beings, master beings. It is us who have overcame all the obstacles and become one with death. We don’t need to sleep, we don’t need to eat or procreate, we aren’t limited by the life. Every Forsaken must continue to develop his or hers skills, continue to evolve. Most of the Living see us as monsters because they only receive our physical appearance that conflicts with their ridiculous idea of beauty, but they don’t see the depth of it, they just gaze at the tip of the iceberg. They are blind at the Truth and thus they need to be taught a lesson. They need to die and be reborn, that is the mission of the Forsaken, we are not the villains here, we are good people, trying to show the living what is really going on here. The purpose of every living being is to die and live in a paradise after it, become the Forsaken, not a mindless zombie but a thinking individual.

Our Crusade is noble and our nation is growing, slowly but steadily.
We need to be cunning in order to survive in this world, being a part of the pathetic collection of few living races called the Horde, we are supervised by greenskin savages, orcs. I am well aware that they hate us but deep inside they are also afraid of us…for a good reason, the day will come when the Forsaken will no longer need to ally themselves with the Living…no, the Living shall become the Forsaken and the Azeroth will belong to us…but we need to be patient.

My name is Dieter von Drakenhof and I am loyal servant of Shadow and her Majesty…in their name I shall bring you death.