Monsters Inside Us

The deathcharger's hooves thudded in a rhythmic pattern as the creature slowly made its way down the poorly repaired road in the Eastern Plaguelands. Beckyann sat atop it, her form swaying in time with the creature's movements, her eyes distant as she was lost in thought. Alone on the road, the purple armored, blonde haired woman was a spec of bright color amongst the gloom of the plague-riddled trees around her.

And so begins my inauspicious career in the 1113^th. Have I made the right choices so far? Will they appreciate my skills, or will they discover that I've my own mind on things and try to stamp out such thoughts as that elf implied they would? Is such a thing even possible? My will survived even through the domination of the King, and his own fall.

The blonde shook her head, trying to banish such thoughts. It didn't really matter whether she was appreciated, or whether the elf had been right; they were dead. Such games, games of the mind, were the only sport left to them. The only thing that they could do to pass the time and glean pleasure from, or at least they were to Beckyann's thoughts. Politics, intrigue, and the pursuit of power and riches were motivators now. That and the sense of having a family, having brothers and sisters who suffered alongside you, who understood what you were. One never got to choose one's family, in life or death, and Beckyann would have it no other way.

As the last thoughts passed through her mind, her deathcharger came to the crest of a small hill and began its downward descent on the other side, giving the woman's glowing blue eyes a clear field of view for some distance down the path. Her gaze immediately came to rest on a large clump of figures surrounding a carriage on the road ahead, flashes in the dying sunlight indicating the movement of weapons. She had clearly stumbled upon a raging battle, and she pulled up on her reins, studying the scene before deciding how to proceed.

Down the road ahead, her unnatural sight could make out the forms of men armored in gleaming plate with well made swords fighting back to back against what looked to be a band of ragged men dressed in an assortment of leathers. Most of the fighting was contained on one edge of the road, with the large, well appointed carriage dominating the center of the path. Beckyann's eyes drifted over the conveyance and she immediately perked up in her saddle as she took in the richness of its design and decoration. If the exterior of the vehicle was so lavishly designed, what must the interior hold? It was clear now that a noble's party had met a bandit ambush along the road, and this close to Acherus it was partially the duty of the Knights of the Ebon Blade to see to it that order was maintained.

It was clear what she had to do, and there could be some reward in it.

With a grin, Beckyann kicked her undead steed hard in the flanks and the beast snorted before bursting into motion. Its hooves pounded against the crumbling road now at a pace that might kill a living animal if it were to step in a hole. Beckyann paid such concerns no mind though; the creature she rode was a thrall, and if it was injured or died she would create another one. It meant little to her in the end.

In only a few seconds the creature had eaten up the distance between the battle and Beckyann's previous position. The death knight pulled back hard on the reins and then guided her steed off to the left as her eyes caught the sight of one of the bandits making his way around the exterior of the carriage, unnoticed with the raging conflict of the guards and bandits on the other side of the road. With a grin, Beckyann jumped from her saddle, drawing her runeblade in a smooth motion as she ran towards the man.

“Halt!” she yelled, her purple plate boots pounding on the soft soil of the plaguelands as she raced towards him.

The man turned to look at her, his hand slipping from the door handle of the carriage as he blinked in surprise. Dressed in ragged leather armor with a rusty sword at his hip, it was clear he had fallen on hard times. He smiled at Beckyann, his grin missing several teeth, “Get lost lass, unless you want to be split in two like those fella's on the other side'a the road!”

Beckyann skidded to a halt, her eyes boring into the man's as she opened her mouth to speak, “In the name of the Knights of the Ebon Blade, I order you to ce-”

Her words were interrupted as a sword was jammed into her back. A second bandit had come up behind her, unnoticed in the noise of the battle going on nearby. His weapon was a rusty longsword that was still sharp enough to slip between the plates of her armor and plunge out of the front of her abdomen. She blinked in surprise once before slipping from the blade to the ground.

The bandit that had stabbed her kicked her hard once before offering his companion a grin and stepping over her. The first bandit chuckled and then turned, his hand reaching out for the door handle on the carriage. His hand was halted as something warm and hard collided with his shoulder, the warmth spreading down his back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw an object bounce away, and as he turned his gaze he gasped in shock as he realized it was the head of his companion. He was covered in the man's gore.

The bandit turned, reaching for his sword and drawing it in haste. Where his companion had been the blonde haired woman stood once more, a grin on her face and brackish red-black blood oozing from the wound in her belly. Between her glowing eyes, the diseased blood spilling from her, and the way the pain of such a wound did virtually nothing to hinder her, the man knew he was in trouble.

“You didn't let me finish,” Beckyann almost purred. “So impolite. Fear not though, we'll have plenty of time to discuss it.”

Face pale with shock now, the man wordlessly charged at her, his blade coming down in a sweeping attack that would cleave her skull. The rusty old weapon was met in mid-air by a glittering runeblade; the impact of the two swords shattering the bandit's weapon and hurling pieces to the ground all around them. The bandit was left holding only a six inch piece of blade above his hilt. His eyes widened with fear.

“Oops, how unfortunate,” Beckyann said with a smile. She stalked towards the man, who raised his weapon and tried to slash at her with the broken blade. This time Beckyann was less forgiving and her runeblade came up and sliced the man's hand from his arm mid-wrist. He looked at it in shock before falling to his knees, screaming in agony.

Beckyann stepped forward, one of her boots lashing out and kicking the man into the dirt. He writhed there for a moment, and the sight brought strange feelings throughout her body. At her temples, she could almost feel her pulse pounding. Her tongue came out, running across her blackened lips as she almost felt her heart beating within her ribcage. Sensations she rarely experienced since her death seemed to flow through whatever diseased fluids filled her veins, and she took a deep breath the like of which she no longer required.

She studied the bandit for a moment, her blonde hair falling to frame her face as she looked down at him. He squirmed in the dirt, desperately holding the stump of his arm. Beckyann's eyes half closed and her mouth opened slightly as she brought her runeblade up and gently pressed it against his gut. With deliberate, precise movements she pressed ever so slightly, letting the sharp point dig into his flesh and then slide in an inch. His screams rose, as did the pressure and sense of pulse in her temples. She smiled, taking another deep breath and pushing the blade deeper now, her wrist turning and twisting it to inflict more agony on the man.

The bandit convulsed, his screams blood-curdling as he tried to curl into a ball around the sword that pinned his gut. Beckyann's eyes fluttered shut as she enjoyed the pure sensation of hurting him. Fortunately for the man, the moment was interrupted by a loud, commanding voice behind the death knight.

“I believe you've incapacitated him miss, that will be quite enough,” the gruff voice stated.

Beckyann let the breath she'd taken sigh out as she opened her eyes, her hand pulling the runeblade free. The man continued to sob and tremble on the ground as she turned, her baleful gaze taking in the sight of a knight in silver armor with other men-at-arms standing behind him. Many of them wore now-dirtied tabards of white, blue, and gold that depicted the emblem of some noble house or another.

The man in the lead nodded once, his eyes taking in the nature of the woman before him before his gaze swept over the surrounding countryside, checking for more assailants. Seeing none, he stepped around Beckyann, sheathing his sword and removing his helm. The men-at-arms behind him stepped forward and grabbed the whimpering bandit on the ground, dragging him away.

Beckyann turned and watched as the black-haired man's face was exposed. He was handsome, his features having a classic elegance to them as he reached up and opened the carriage door. From her angle, Beckyann could see that the interior of the conveyance was indeed as lush as she expected it to be. Her view was quickly blocked as a blonde-haired woman in an expensive dress stepped towards the open door. Upon seeing the knight unharmed, she nearly began to weep and rushed into his arms, holding him tightly.

The man turned and nodded again to Beckyann, his arms around the woman. “You have done well this day, Miss. The Lady Gwenneth was not injured in the attack thanks to your intervention. We were making our way to Light's Hope to honor the heroes of that place when these curs intercepted us. You have our thanks.”

Beckyann's eyes stayed locked on the man as his lady wept on his shoulder pauldron. Inside, she felt a stab of hateful jealousy as she took in the woman's fine dress and the silhouette of the two embracing each other. Here was everything she had wanted to earn in her life. Wealth, power, luxury, and the hand of a powerful warrior and champion. Here was everything that had been robbed from her when that life had been extinguished. Here was everything she could never have. She nearly hissed in anger before brutally bringing her own emotions under control.

She responded in a hollow, eerie tone, “It is my duty to see to it that these lands are purged of threats to our Hold and to our allies. I am bound to lay waste to those who would dare challenge our order so close to our home. The rest of your journey should be more uneventful I would think.”

The man nodded again before turning to usher the now composed lady back up the stairs. She turned her gaze towards Beckyann, her brown eyes conveying her thanks and appreciation. Beckyann simply stared hatefully back at her, and surprise crossed the woman's features before she quickly got into the carriage.

Beckyann turned, stalking towards her deathcharger. The creature tried to bite her as she drew near, as it always did, and she punched it hard to stifle it's defiance before pulling herself into the saddle. With a last look at the men-at-arms and their commander, she kicked the creature's flanks and it began to trot off into the distance.

As the carriage and site of battle passed from sight, Beckyann almost sighed with relief before she looked down, seeing the tear in her tabard and the damage done to her custom made armor. She growled once, muttering to herself.

“Great. Now I'll have to spend time at the forges repairing this. And you KNOW the Hold isn't going to have the right color dye to match this. What a great end to a rather pathetic first patrol.”

Fortunately for the deathcharger, it was unable to offer any reply that would have gotten it another cuff to the back of the head as the death knight continued on her way, her mood stormy.