A blog dedicated to fictional short stories and role-playing across a spectrum of video-games and fantasy worlds.

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Dispatching Ghosts

The middle aged woman stood behind the young girl, brushing her hair before a large vanity, the onyx strands glinting almost blue in the candlelight that illuminated the room. The woman smiled as she tended to the girl's hair, handling it lovingly as she watched the young one in the mirror.

"Well now don't you just look lovely, Kerry. You'll grow up to be the perfect noblewoman one day," the woman said softly as she worked.

"No mamma! I'm going to be a princess!" the little girl replied.

"Oh really?" the woman replied with a smile. She continued to brush the girl's hair as she spoke over her head. "And what will you do when you become a princess hmmm?"

The little girl smiled into the mirror at her mother's reflection, "I will make sure all of my people are happy and have all of the food and things they need to live good lives!"

The girl's mother nodded, still brushing. "But what will you do if dangers threaten your people? Will you have a knight in shining armor to help defend your realm my little princess?"

The little girl scowled into the mirror, shaking her head as much as she could while her hair was being brushed, "I don't need a knight to help me! I will watch over my own people and defend them myself!"

The woman chuckled, her smile widening. "Oh I see! But what if there are dragons?  What will you do then Princess Kerry?"

The little girl merely smiled into the mirror, giving her mother a steady look, "It's simple mamma. I'll tame the dragons and they will do my bidding! Then the dragons will fight for my people!"

The woman stopped brushing for a moment, surprised at the strength in the little girl's words. She shook her head and laughed, resuming the nightly ritual with tender care. "You are ambitious little Kerryann. I hope that one day your dreams come true, although I'd prefer if you didn't bring dragons into the house, tame or not."

*********************************************

The runeblade glittered in the light as it descended, the glowing sigils on it leaving a trailing aftereffect to the eyes of any who viewed it. A sword came up to meet the blow, only to shatter beneath the force of the impact. The orc warrior who had been holding the sword had just a second to look at the woman with surprise before the blade completed its downward arc, slamming into his chest and throwing him to the ground in ruin.

Kerryann whirled, her plate armored boots digging into the soil of the Highlands. The runeblade in her hand came up, parrying a blow from a troll that would have left a dagger embedded in her collarbone. With a snarl she shoved back against the crossed blades, pushing the creature off her with unnatural strength. Not dissuaded from its attack, the troll lunged again only to find its vision obstructed as a howling gale of icy cold necromantic magic struck it in the face. The spell was followed up by the deadly runeblade, and it too fell to the ground near the orc; another causality of the constant battle around the Twin Peaks region.

Kerryann's mind raged as she tried to chase away the memories in her thoughts with endless slaughter. The blood flowing on the ground around her allowed her to concentrate, but it was only a temporary reprieve from the painful reminders that kept returning ever since she'd come back to Stormwind.

And every time she spoke to Florinai.

"Why the fel do I let her keep roping me into these conversations?" the death knight snarled. Her line of thought was interrupted as an arrow glanced off of one of her shoulder pauldrons, sheering a tiny shard of metal off. She snarled and reached out, a dark tendril of shadowy necromantic power wrapping around the elven archer that had shot at her and dragging her towards the death knight.

As the elf landed, Kerryann thrust with her runeblade, stabbing it deep into the elf's gut. A blood plague quickly spread from the wound and the elf looked at the death knight with wide eyes and a shocked expression before she slid off the blade and onto the ground.

The agony she inflicted on her victims settled her nerves somewhat, but it wasn't enough. Something was off now, something she couldn't place. Somewhere along the line, since returning, she'd begun to feel differently. Maybe it was just the fact that after years of wandering first in the plaguelands that was once a part of Lordaeron and then in the frozen north after that, she was finally talking to other living people. Maybe it was simply that she still had enemies to fight that represented forces which were clearly evil, despite what she herself was.

Whatever it was, it was driving her mad. Like an irritating itch at the back of her mind, she couldn't entirely banish the thoughts of her past, or the questions people like the elf Florinai raised.

Her thoughts were again interrupted as a blast of shadowy magic tore the runeblade from her hand. The weapon flipped end over end before imbedding itself point first in the soil nearby. Kerryann whirled to see a forsaken priest standing nearby, shadow magic curling around him like a protective blanket. The creature smiled at her, or at least she thought it did; it was hard to tell with its face as rotted as it was. Regardless, she felt fury rise up in her as she realized the THING had thought it won.

As the priest began to build up its power, shadows thickened in the air around it. Kerryann raised her hand and the power was cut off as a choking band of necromantic magic flared around the priest's neck. The effect was only temporary of course; Forsaken didn't exactly need to breath like a regular person did. It was more the surprise than anything else.

The priest cackled, "A nice trick, but time to die human. Maybe if you're lucky, you can join our ranks!"

Kerryann didn't respond, she simply pointed at the creature and shouted words in the Language of Death. Howling necromantic energies struck the priest again and again as he reeled back in surprise at the woman's attack. Kerryann chanted again and her runeblade in the ground nearby flared with energy, frost covering the ground around it as it fed her with power. She stalked towards the forsaken, pelting him with howling icy blasts over and over, watching as he fell to his knees.

Halfway to her victim, Kerryann retrieved her runeblade from the soil, yanking it up and resting it against her shoulder, letting the pain of holding it flow through her body. It was always agony for her to touch it; a never-ending state of torment that she existed in at all times when connected with the blade. It was as natural as breathing to her now.

She looked down on the forsaken without a trace of pity or remorse in her eyes. "Rest in eternal peace. I release you."

The runeblade came down and the forsaken was animated no longer. Kerryann removed its head with a swift motion to ensure it would never rise again. She walked away from the corpses she'd left on the field, heading towards the next flare-up of combat.

In the back of her mind though, she could feel her mother's hands as they brushed her hair. She could feel Florinai's fingertips against her neck as she checked her pulse. The feelings would haunt her, regardless of how many foes she dispatched that day.

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