Kerryann ducked down
behind some bushes and peered through the darkness of night, her glowing
eyes missing little as she studied the small structure that lay in a
clearing deep in Silverpine forest. It had taken her days of monitoring
Tarren Mill and following couriers coming to and from the place before
she had been able to find the location of the structure, and patience
was critical.
In the distance, she could hear the not-so-subtle sounds of hooves crushing the underbrush. She winced and shook her head; Kelysia might be a valuable ally in a fight, both as a paladin and just for her sheer raw strength, but she was definitely not a scout, spy, ranger, or any other thing that walked quietly. A particularly loud crash was followed by a low-murmured string of curses in Draenei, and Kerryann just rolled her eyes and went back to her evaluation of the clearing.
She'd had to hunt down the right messengers to find this place; many of those who visited Tarren Mill amongst the Forsaken were simply taking regular correspondence. It had taken quite some time to find just the right one; to find a courier that had been dispatched by the Forsaken she was hunting.
Before Kerryann could finish her thought, a sudden movement behind her erupted in the night. Boney fingers clamped down over her mouth and she was pulled backwards as a heavy weight slammed into her back and tried to bear her to the ground. A dry, hoarse voice whispered in her ear as she fell, its mocking tone making it clear who she was dealing with, “You should never have tread upon the Queen's lands foolish human. Now you'll join her followers.”
Kerryann's eyes blazed with scourgelight and she reached out, grabbing the Forsaken's hand and imbuing it with Frost Fever, “Fat chance deader. Time to go to your final rest.”
The undead's grip was broken as its arm began to turn gray with frostbite. With its hand no longer restraining her, Kerryann grabbed the Forsaken by the wrist and hurled him to the ground in front of her. Even as she did so, noises crashed in the bushes around her as more Forsaken assaulted her; it appeared that a full patrol had been sent to scour the woods.
“Just great. This is just what I needed to finish the day off right,” Kerryann muttered, drawing her runeblade. The deadly sword flashed with necromantic magic as she slashed out at the first attacker, taking him by surprised when his blade shattered on her magical weapon. The next two assailants fared little better as she cut them down, her formal weapons training coming in handy. In the back of her mind, Kerryann realized that she didn't hear any other combat, meaning that the Forsaken had not found Kelysia yet. She felt a slight echo of relief flow through her, even as her face took on a look of grim determination and she waded into combat with a half-dozen attackers.
It was clear they would cut her down. It was only a matter of time. Even as she thought this, she lashed out with dark magic, hurling several back. To her discomfort, a flash of holy Light glowed briefly around one of the combatants as a nearby female Forsaken began casting healing spells on her comrades. Kerryann growled, using her runeblade as a bat to swat her attackers out of her way, charging towards the priestess.
She brought her runeblade up high, the magic on it glittering with a deadly light, prepared to slice the Forsaken's head clean off. At that moment, she felt a sharp impact in her shoulder as a crossbow bolt punched through her collarbone, spraying her diseased, brackish blood onto the forest floor. The blow made her stumble, and she found her runeblade slipping from her nearly useless fingers to fall into the leaves at her feet. She whirled, seeing a Forsaken in the distance reloading the weapon. Around her, the rest of the attackers grinned wickedly, clearly believing her doomed.
With a snarl, she turned back towards the priestess, who was in the middle of chanting another spell. Despite the flickering holy Light around the creature, Kerryann barked out a string of words in the Language of Death. Instantly the priestess's spell faltered as her mind was frozen in the grip of necromantic magic. She stumbled and Kerryann brought her good hand up, using it to hurl a howling blast of icy magic at the priestess, tearing her to bits.
It was all the time she had left though as a second crossbow bolt slammed into her hip, spinning her around and throwing her to the ground. The pain, while intense, was not any worse than holding a runeblade felt, and Kerryann tried to bring herself up. A shadow blotted out the stars in the night sky above and she looked up in time to see the stock of a crossbow slam into her face.
Blackness grew around her vision and she steadfastly held on to consciousness, attempting to chant the words to another spell, even as the butt of the weapon came down hard on her face again. Stars flared in her eyes and she found her mind amused by all of it as she tumbled into the leaves.
So this is what it's like to be unconscious...
********************************
Glowing blue eyes opened slowly, at first not able to see anything. After a few heartbeats, Kerryann's vision adjusted and she began to take in the details of her surroundings. She realized she was looking at a stone, cob-webbed ceiling in a room that had only a few candles illuminated for light. Even as she thought this, she attempted to sit up and discovered that she was restrained.
Moving her head from side to side to wake up fully, she noted that her arms were chained up above her head, with restraints clamped around her ankles. She was laying on a wooden table, and the restraints were strong enough to prevent even her unnatural strength from moving them much. The position was awkward, as her rather diminutive plate armor pieces exposed most of her torso, creating the illusion of helplessness. Kerryann grinned; it WAS only an illusion after all.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a door somewhere behind her opened. Footsteps echoed off of the wooden floor as someone approached her, and Kerryann turned her head as much as she could to get a view of whoever it was. She didn't have to wait long as a Forsaken man wearing a rather elegant leather tunic and pants stepped up to the side of the table, bending over to look down at her.
Kerryann's eyes widened in shock for the first time in her unnatural life.
The face was different of course; he'd died and been raised as scourge and then later became Forsaken. But the angle of his chin, the superior expression on his face, the set of his eyes and the way they roamed over her restrained form; all of it was familiar to her. He was the man she'd been looking for, the Forsaken named Sebastian Coallar.
The man who had once been her lover. The man she'd killed.
He grinned down at her, the foul stench of the undead washing over her as he spoke, “Hello Kerry. It's been far too long, wouldn't you say?”
She just stared at him, her eyes taking in the face of someone who she once cared about more than anything in the entire world, someone that she could have and did give up everything for.
“Nothing to say now love?” Sebastian said slyly. “I'm sure you didn't expect to see me again, what with the rather unfortunate events of our parting.”
“You were bleeding to death from a gut wound,” Kerryann responded in a neutral tone.
“Yes yes, quite inconvenient that was,” the Forsaken said, waving a hand as if to dismiss the notion. “As you can see though, fortune has a way of rewarding us for our diligence. And the fact that you are here now, and within my power, only proves that fact.”
Kerryann smiled up sweetly at the dead thing looming over her, “Only until I decide to leave beloved.”
Sebastian grinned, reaching down to his belt and pulling out a dagger, “Oh, you won't be doing that love. Unfortunately I rather suspect you have some information I could use. As a result, I'm afraid I must question you for a good long time before I allow you to go to the Undercity, where the Queen's agents will more thoroughly debrief you.”
Kerryann watched the Forsaken with indifference as he brought the knife up over her. He laughed a little, letting the blade flicker in the light, “Now, where exactly did you stab me? Oh, that's right, the stomach.”
The blade came down hard and fast towards Kerryann's unprotected flesh. When the tip reached the surface of her skin, necromantic magic flashed brightly and the blade tip snapped off as the weapon contacted a spell that was the equivalent of plate armor made from the finest steel. Sebastian reeled back, holding the damaged weapon in his hand and glaring at his captive.
Kerryann merely laughed, the sound echoing through the stone room and off of the bubbling alchemical equipment lining the walls. The Forsaken's face slowly changed to rage as her laughter mocked him. “You never did understand, did you Sebastian? You were not as good as me. You and the others encouraged me to study necromancy with you, encouraged me to join your little coven on Sorrow Hill so we could all become powerful together, but you never could overcome your own limitations. You never could open your mind beyond the teachings of the Cult of the Damned, and it is that weakness that caused you to die in the end, because you couldn't see that I COULD see beyond all of what we were learning, to the truth of the matter.”
The Forsaken surged forward, his withered fist connected solidly with Kerryann's mouth, rocking her head, “SHUT UP! Shut your disgusting little mouth! You think you understand magic? You think you are so much BETTER than me and the others?! You think because your flesh looks beautiful that you are not as rotten, as DEAD as us?!”
The Forsaken lurched away, going to a nearby table and drawing another dagger. He reached out, taking a bubbling vial and pouring its contents on the blade. In a rage, he stormed back over to the restrained death knight, raising the weapon up over his head, “Suffer love. Suffer the same wound you gave me on our last day together.”
The blade came down, magic flashing as its enchantments cut through Kerryann's barriers and plunged into her gut. She gasped once, the pain just another in the symphony of agony that her body inflicted on her every day. Between the Frost Fever flowing through her veins, the inability to sleep, and the dull throbbing ache of a runeblade that constantly sought to steal her spirit, a stab wound to the belly meant little in the end. She smiled up at Sebastian.
“You don't understand what true suffering is. I know that you DO suffer, because you're undead,” she murmured to him. “You are so much weaker than me though, so much less than what you could have been. You and I, we could have accomplished anything together, side by side. Our magic would have outshone anything, and what we had would have lasted an eternity. But you had to allow your mind to falter, to become bound by the will of the Cult, and now the will of your Queen. You think this is suffering? You do not understand suffering. What you should understand though is that unlike you, I will NEVER be bound. You cannot hurt me. You cannot turn me into what you are, because I've already long ago defeated you Sebastian. I let you die. You are here because of what I MADE you.”
His howl was, admittedly, satisfying to Kerryann as he brought the blade up and out of her gut. Some of her diseased blood oozed from the wound as he brought it down a second time, and then a third. She just kept smiling at him, the expression driving his rage on until at last he lunged on top of the table and with both hands plunged the dagger into her heart.
A gasp escaped her lips, and her eyes widened for a moment as her body began to finally die. Her hand came up and caressed his dead face once as her vision became a tunnel of darkness, her last words hanging in the air.
“And so I cannot answer your questions now my love....farewell.”
His rage at his own failure of self restraint was a pleasing dirge to guide her into death.
***********************************
She hung in an endless gray void, her senses reeling as she tried to understand where she was, WHAT she was. There were no reference points, and nothing to guide her as she tried to puzzle it out. After a time, she realized that the void was not all gray. Beneath her were clouds of roiling darkness that contained shadows that writhed. She knew instantly, upon seeing that darkness below that the shadows would tear her to shreds if they could reach her; that they hated her simply for being aware enough to think of them.
She tilted her 'head', looking up above her and having to look away quickly. As dark as the clouds beneath her was, above her hung a burning glow of Light, too bright for one such as her to look upon. Here and there shafts of the Light blazed down, touching on the surface of the clouds beneath her and being absorbed; a constant struggle between the brilliance above and the darkness below, with her hanging between.
“You stand on the cusp. You must decide to ascend or descend.”
The voice startled her, and she spun her field of view to find a teenage girl standing on nothing beside her. Dark black hair framed a familiar face as the vision smiled at her; it was her, or rather, a younger version of her. Kerryann shook her head and frowned as she studied the vision; she was skilled enough to recognize a spirit, regardless of the form it wore.
“You are not me,” she murmured. “You're just an image, a vision, a ghost. Leave me be.”
The 'girl' smiled at her, tilting her head and speaking again, “You must choose Kerryann. What are you? You stand in darkness, but use it to destroy darkness. And yet the Light will not have you until you choose to surrender what you've become. Make your choice. It is over now.”
Time, which likely had no meaning to the dead anyway, seemed to drag on as Kerryann studied the figure standing before her, realizing that it actually WAS over. She had been killed. Killed by Sebastian. It was almost fitting in a way.
Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard a distant song rise up. She looked down to see her body, glowing softly with a radiant light. The girl standing beside her frowned, even as the song intensified; it was a prayer being sung in the rough voice of a draenei. A prayer to call the dead back. Kerryann looked up and smirked at the image of herself, shaking her head, “I do not have to make this choice. I am outside of all of this. I exist because I choose to. Because I will it to be so. I am not bound.”
Light flared, and Kerryann screamed as it burned her.
*************************************************
Dead, cold eyes suddenly blazed blue with scourge-light as Kelysia's prayer of resurrection forcibly hurled Kerryann's spirit back into her body. An ear-splitting scream pierced the night as the woman awoke, the holy Light burning her from the inside out.
“Kerry!” Kelysia shouted. “Wake up! It's me, Kelysia! We have to get you out of here. Snap out of it and get UP!”
The human thrashed, her eyes unseeing for a moment before coming to focus on the draenei standing over her. Slowly her convulsing slowed and then finally stopped as she regained control of her body. She blinked up at the draenei, confusion on her face, “Why? Why did you bring me back?”
Kelysia shrugged, “You're good at killing deaders and I felt like it. Deal with it. Get up.”
Kerryann shook her head and sighed, “No, I mean, they didn't dismember my body. I likely would have risen again given enough time...”
Kelysia shook her head and frowned, “Uh, Kerry... I don't care what kind of diseased magic you think you've got that would bring you back, do you see where you ARE?”
Kerryann blinked, tilting her head. Her face set into a frown as she realized she was lying on a pile of corpses outside of the structure she'd been interrogated in. Sebastian hadn't even bothered to give her a proper burial; he'd just tossed her away, like rotten carrion to be used in whatever experiments the Forsaken did on corpses.
Black rage began to build in her as she thought about it, her barely beating heart beginning to pump enough for her to feel it seething through her entire body. He'd discarded her, like it was nothing. He'd dishonored her body by leaving her to rot outside, not even bothering to throw her in a crypt. The sheer disrespect of the act burned inside of her like a flame. She shook with the force of her rage, of the idea of someone so inferior thinking they could treat her this way.
“Kerry...” Kelysia began. “People will have heard your screaming. We need to leave before they...” She was cut off as the woman she'd just brought back surged to her feet, the wounds she'd suffered still oozing blood. Her eyes blazed with scourge-light now, narrowed into slits of pure, unending malice.
“Kerry! You don't even have a WEAPON! Snap out of it and let's go!” Kelysia moved to intercept her friend, only to find the woman's hand shoving her back. The draenei stumbled on the pile of corpses that they stood upon, falling backwards and off of the dead onto the ground nearby, landing on her rump with an 'oof!'.
“So be it,” Kerryann said darkly. “If you wish to dishonor the dead, then we will see what they have to say.”
“Kerry! Stop it!” Kelysia shouted. It was already too late though as Kerryann's hand came up, deep purple magic flaring around it as she began to chant in the Language of Death. Strands of the magic touched the corpses around Kerryann as she applied her power in ways that she had not done in many years.
She began to use the necromancy that Sebastian had always envied so much.
Around her, corpses began to stir as they rose to their feet slowly, first one, then two more, then a dozen of them, all shambling towards their Mistress, who kept them in check only through the sheer force of her will. As Kelysia looked on in horror, Kerryann reached out and touched one of the corpses. It exploded into dust, and a cloud of necromantic energy flowed into the woman, stitching closed her wounds with a foul green light.
“SEBATIAN! YOU WISH TO SEE WHAT TRUE POWER YOU COULD HAVE HAD? COME OUTSIDE YOU COWARD!”
Her shouts alerted some of the Forsaken guards, and several poured out of the side of the structure. Kelysia drew her sword even as the first charged towards the woman standing on the corpse pile. Kerryann's unnatural eyes focused on the Forsaken and in that moment the creature knew what she was about to do.
She released her hold on the dead.
Like a mindless horde, the creatures gibbered and rushed across the remaining distance, already starting to tear the first guard to shreds. His screams echoed through the night as more guards poured out, pumping crossbow bolts into creatures that were far beyond the ability to feel pain.
A roiling battle ensued as the Forsaken tried to fight off the newly raised dead. As the combat swirled, Kerryann walked amongst her creatures, a dark figure with a look of utter hatred plastered to her face. Kelysia ran in behind her, trying to catch up to her and cutting down a few of the Forsaken guards as she reached for her friend.
“SESBASTIAN! COME OUT HERE THIS INSTANT! THIS IS NOT FINISHED BETWEEN US!”
Kerryann's hands came up and dark necromancy flared again, sending howling gales of ice and wind against the side of the building. Windows shattered inward, destroying furniture behind and several of the Forsaken were cut down where they stood. The ghouls around Kerryann began to gain the upper hand, feasting on the small garrison's flesh as the undead tore the undead to pieces.
The side of the structure exploded outward as an alchemical or mechanical device detonated. Kerryann raised a hand to shield her eyes as splinters of wood flew past her. From the smoking hole, a giant bat flew up into the night, a figure astride it looking down at her in hatred.
For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as Kerryann's eyes connected with Sebastian's, their mutual hate crossing the distance like arrows. In that moment, he realized she would never stop looking for him, her ambition and pride driving her onward forever. He shivered, even as the bat soared up into the air and out of reach of her spells.
“SEBASTIANNNNNNN!!!!!!”
Kerryann's irrational screams were cut off as Kelysia finally managed to cut her way through the battle and slap her friend hard in the face. “SNAP OUT OF IT! We don't have time to linger here. The structure is on fire and there's been a battle. I don't give a damn if your lover got away, we have to leave before more Forsaken are sent to investigate!”
For a moment, Kelysia thought that Kerryann might strike her, so intense was the glare of hatred on her face. After a second, she relaxed, a breath escaping her. She nodded, “Yes. Yes we must leave. But not before we do what the Forsaken are too vile to do. Let us finish off the guards and burn them, so they can go in peace.”
Kelysia looked at Kerryann once and then nodded. Together they turned back to the swirling melee, sword and magic at the ready.
*********************************
They rode side by side down the dark, moonlit path. Kerryann's undead steed was countered by the glowing light radiating from Kelysia's charger. Behind them, flames licked up into the sky, the fires now a pyre for the Forsaken garrison of the structure and their victims that had finally been given a chance at revenge thanks to Kerryann's magic.
As the two rode off, firelight glinted on the swords of the garrison, which Kerryann had carefully planted point down in neat rows as markers. All of the bodies were being consumed in the flames of the structure of course, but it was a gesture to honor the dead, something to remember the people that they might have been before they fell to darkness.
It seemed somehow appropriate to both the paladin and the death knight.
As they rode off into the forest of Silverpine, Kerryann's voice echoed through the night, raised up in a death dirge for the honored dead. The melody carried into the darkness, haunting in her unnatural voice, until it too faded and was replaced only by the snaps and pops of the roaring flames.
In the distance, she could hear the not-so-subtle sounds of hooves crushing the underbrush. She winced and shook her head; Kelysia might be a valuable ally in a fight, both as a paladin and just for her sheer raw strength, but she was definitely not a scout, spy, ranger, or any other thing that walked quietly. A particularly loud crash was followed by a low-murmured string of curses in Draenei, and Kerryann just rolled her eyes and went back to her evaluation of the clearing.
She'd had to hunt down the right messengers to find this place; many of those who visited Tarren Mill amongst the Forsaken were simply taking regular correspondence. It had taken quite some time to find just the right one; to find a courier that had been dispatched by the Forsaken she was hunting.
Before Kerryann could finish her thought, a sudden movement behind her erupted in the night. Boney fingers clamped down over her mouth and she was pulled backwards as a heavy weight slammed into her back and tried to bear her to the ground. A dry, hoarse voice whispered in her ear as she fell, its mocking tone making it clear who she was dealing with, “You should never have tread upon the Queen's lands foolish human. Now you'll join her followers.”
Kerryann's eyes blazed with scourgelight and she reached out, grabbing the Forsaken's hand and imbuing it with Frost Fever, “Fat chance deader. Time to go to your final rest.”
The undead's grip was broken as its arm began to turn gray with frostbite. With its hand no longer restraining her, Kerryann grabbed the Forsaken by the wrist and hurled him to the ground in front of her. Even as she did so, noises crashed in the bushes around her as more Forsaken assaulted her; it appeared that a full patrol had been sent to scour the woods.
“Just great. This is just what I needed to finish the day off right,” Kerryann muttered, drawing her runeblade. The deadly sword flashed with necromantic magic as she slashed out at the first attacker, taking him by surprised when his blade shattered on her magical weapon. The next two assailants fared little better as she cut them down, her formal weapons training coming in handy. In the back of her mind, Kerryann realized that she didn't hear any other combat, meaning that the Forsaken had not found Kelysia yet. She felt a slight echo of relief flow through her, even as her face took on a look of grim determination and she waded into combat with a half-dozen attackers.
It was clear they would cut her down. It was only a matter of time. Even as she thought this, she lashed out with dark magic, hurling several back. To her discomfort, a flash of holy Light glowed briefly around one of the combatants as a nearby female Forsaken began casting healing spells on her comrades. Kerryann growled, using her runeblade as a bat to swat her attackers out of her way, charging towards the priestess.
She brought her runeblade up high, the magic on it glittering with a deadly light, prepared to slice the Forsaken's head clean off. At that moment, she felt a sharp impact in her shoulder as a crossbow bolt punched through her collarbone, spraying her diseased, brackish blood onto the forest floor. The blow made her stumble, and she found her runeblade slipping from her nearly useless fingers to fall into the leaves at her feet. She whirled, seeing a Forsaken in the distance reloading the weapon. Around her, the rest of the attackers grinned wickedly, clearly believing her doomed.
With a snarl, she turned back towards the priestess, who was in the middle of chanting another spell. Despite the flickering holy Light around the creature, Kerryann barked out a string of words in the Language of Death. Instantly the priestess's spell faltered as her mind was frozen in the grip of necromantic magic. She stumbled and Kerryann brought her good hand up, using it to hurl a howling blast of icy magic at the priestess, tearing her to bits.
It was all the time she had left though as a second crossbow bolt slammed into her hip, spinning her around and throwing her to the ground. The pain, while intense, was not any worse than holding a runeblade felt, and Kerryann tried to bring herself up. A shadow blotted out the stars in the night sky above and she looked up in time to see the stock of a crossbow slam into her face.
Blackness grew around her vision and she steadfastly held on to consciousness, attempting to chant the words to another spell, even as the butt of the weapon came down hard on her face again. Stars flared in her eyes and she found her mind amused by all of it as she tumbled into the leaves.
So this is what it's like to be unconscious...
********************************
Glowing blue eyes opened slowly, at first not able to see anything. After a few heartbeats, Kerryann's vision adjusted and she began to take in the details of her surroundings. She realized she was looking at a stone, cob-webbed ceiling in a room that had only a few candles illuminated for light. Even as she thought this, she attempted to sit up and discovered that she was restrained.
Moving her head from side to side to wake up fully, she noted that her arms were chained up above her head, with restraints clamped around her ankles. She was laying on a wooden table, and the restraints were strong enough to prevent even her unnatural strength from moving them much. The position was awkward, as her rather diminutive plate armor pieces exposed most of her torso, creating the illusion of helplessness. Kerryann grinned; it WAS only an illusion after all.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a door somewhere behind her opened. Footsteps echoed off of the wooden floor as someone approached her, and Kerryann turned her head as much as she could to get a view of whoever it was. She didn't have to wait long as a Forsaken man wearing a rather elegant leather tunic and pants stepped up to the side of the table, bending over to look down at her.
Kerryann's eyes widened in shock for the first time in her unnatural life.
The face was different of course; he'd died and been raised as scourge and then later became Forsaken. But the angle of his chin, the superior expression on his face, the set of his eyes and the way they roamed over her restrained form; all of it was familiar to her. He was the man she'd been looking for, the Forsaken named Sebastian Coallar.
The man who had once been her lover. The man she'd killed.
He grinned down at her, the foul stench of the undead washing over her as he spoke, “Hello Kerry. It's been far too long, wouldn't you say?”
She just stared at him, her eyes taking in the face of someone who she once cared about more than anything in the entire world, someone that she could have and did give up everything for.
“Nothing to say now love?” Sebastian said slyly. “I'm sure you didn't expect to see me again, what with the rather unfortunate events of our parting.”
“You were bleeding to death from a gut wound,” Kerryann responded in a neutral tone.
“Yes yes, quite inconvenient that was,” the Forsaken said, waving a hand as if to dismiss the notion. “As you can see though, fortune has a way of rewarding us for our diligence. And the fact that you are here now, and within my power, only proves that fact.”
Kerryann smiled up sweetly at the dead thing looming over her, “Only until I decide to leave beloved.”
Sebastian grinned, reaching down to his belt and pulling out a dagger, “Oh, you won't be doing that love. Unfortunately I rather suspect you have some information I could use. As a result, I'm afraid I must question you for a good long time before I allow you to go to the Undercity, where the Queen's agents will more thoroughly debrief you.”
Kerryann watched the Forsaken with indifference as he brought the knife up over her. He laughed a little, letting the blade flicker in the light, “Now, where exactly did you stab me? Oh, that's right, the stomach.”
The blade came down hard and fast towards Kerryann's unprotected flesh. When the tip reached the surface of her skin, necromantic magic flashed brightly and the blade tip snapped off as the weapon contacted a spell that was the equivalent of plate armor made from the finest steel. Sebastian reeled back, holding the damaged weapon in his hand and glaring at his captive.
Kerryann merely laughed, the sound echoing through the stone room and off of the bubbling alchemical equipment lining the walls. The Forsaken's face slowly changed to rage as her laughter mocked him. “You never did understand, did you Sebastian? You were not as good as me. You and the others encouraged me to study necromancy with you, encouraged me to join your little coven on Sorrow Hill so we could all become powerful together, but you never could overcome your own limitations. You never could open your mind beyond the teachings of the Cult of the Damned, and it is that weakness that caused you to die in the end, because you couldn't see that I COULD see beyond all of what we were learning, to the truth of the matter.”
The Forsaken surged forward, his withered fist connected solidly with Kerryann's mouth, rocking her head, “SHUT UP! Shut your disgusting little mouth! You think you understand magic? You think you are so much BETTER than me and the others?! You think because your flesh looks beautiful that you are not as rotten, as DEAD as us?!”
The Forsaken lurched away, going to a nearby table and drawing another dagger. He reached out, taking a bubbling vial and pouring its contents on the blade. In a rage, he stormed back over to the restrained death knight, raising the weapon up over his head, “Suffer love. Suffer the same wound you gave me on our last day together.”
The blade came down, magic flashing as its enchantments cut through Kerryann's barriers and plunged into her gut. She gasped once, the pain just another in the symphony of agony that her body inflicted on her every day. Between the Frost Fever flowing through her veins, the inability to sleep, and the dull throbbing ache of a runeblade that constantly sought to steal her spirit, a stab wound to the belly meant little in the end. She smiled up at Sebastian.
“You don't understand what true suffering is. I know that you DO suffer, because you're undead,” she murmured to him. “You are so much weaker than me though, so much less than what you could have been. You and I, we could have accomplished anything together, side by side. Our magic would have outshone anything, and what we had would have lasted an eternity. But you had to allow your mind to falter, to become bound by the will of the Cult, and now the will of your Queen. You think this is suffering? You do not understand suffering. What you should understand though is that unlike you, I will NEVER be bound. You cannot hurt me. You cannot turn me into what you are, because I've already long ago defeated you Sebastian. I let you die. You are here because of what I MADE you.”
His howl was, admittedly, satisfying to Kerryann as he brought the blade up and out of her gut. Some of her diseased blood oozed from the wound as he brought it down a second time, and then a third. She just kept smiling at him, the expression driving his rage on until at last he lunged on top of the table and with both hands plunged the dagger into her heart.
A gasp escaped her lips, and her eyes widened for a moment as her body began to finally die. Her hand came up and caressed his dead face once as her vision became a tunnel of darkness, her last words hanging in the air.
“And so I cannot answer your questions now my love....farewell.”
His rage at his own failure of self restraint was a pleasing dirge to guide her into death.
***********************************
She hung in an endless gray void, her senses reeling as she tried to understand where she was, WHAT she was. There were no reference points, and nothing to guide her as she tried to puzzle it out. After a time, she realized that the void was not all gray. Beneath her were clouds of roiling darkness that contained shadows that writhed. She knew instantly, upon seeing that darkness below that the shadows would tear her to shreds if they could reach her; that they hated her simply for being aware enough to think of them.
She tilted her 'head', looking up above her and having to look away quickly. As dark as the clouds beneath her was, above her hung a burning glow of Light, too bright for one such as her to look upon. Here and there shafts of the Light blazed down, touching on the surface of the clouds beneath her and being absorbed; a constant struggle between the brilliance above and the darkness below, with her hanging between.
“You stand on the cusp. You must decide to ascend or descend.”
The voice startled her, and she spun her field of view to find a teenage girl standing on nothing beside her. Dark black hair framed a familiar face as the vision smiled at her; it was her, or rather, a younger version of her. Kerryann shook her head and frowned as she studied the vision; she was skilled enough to recognize a spirit, regardless of the form it wore.
“You are not me,” she murmured. “You're just an image, a vision, a ghost. Leave me be.”
The 'girl' smiled at her, tilting her head and speaking again, “You must choose Kerryann. What are you? You stand in darkness, but use it to destroy darkness. And yet the Light will not have you until you choose to surrender what you've become. Make your choice. It is over now.”
Time, which likely had no meaning to the dead anyway, seemed to drag on as Kerryann studied the figure standing before her, realizing that it actually WAS over. She had been killed. Killed by Sebastian. It was almost fitting in a way.
Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard a distant song rise up. She looked down to see her body, glowing softly with a radiant light. The girl standing beside her frowned, even as the song intensified; it was a prayer being sung in the rough voice of a draenei. A prayer to call the dead back. Kerryann looked up and smirked at the image of herself, shaking her head, “I do not have to make this choice. I am outside of all of this. I exist because I choose to. Because I will it to be so. I am not bound.”
Light flared, and Kerryann screamed as it burned her.
*************************************************
Dead, cold eyes suddenly blazed blue with scourge-light as Kelysia's prayer of resurrection forcibly hurled Kerryann's spirit back into her body. An ear-splitting scream pierced the night as the woman awoke, the holy Light burning her from the inside out.
“Kerry!” Kelysia shouted. “Wake up! It's me, Kelysia! We have to get you out of here. Snap out of it and get UP!”
The human thrashed, her eyes unseeing for a moment before coming to focus on the draenei standing over her. Slowly her convulsing slowed and then finally stopped as she regained control of her body. She blinked up at the draenei, confusion on her face, “Why? Why did you bring me back?”
Kelysia shrugged, “You're good at killing deaders and I felt like it. Deal with it. Get up.”
Kerryann shook her head and sighed, “No, I mean, they didn't dismember my body. I likely would have risen again given enough time...”
Kelysia shook her head and frowned, “Uh, Kerry... I don't care what kind of diseased magic you think you've got that would bring you back, do you see where you ARE?”
Kerryann blinked, tilting her head. Her face set into a frown as she realized she was lying on a pile of corpses outside of the structure she'd been interrogated in. Sebastian hadn't even bothered to give her a proper burial; he'd just tossed her away, like rotten carrion to be used in whatever experiments the Forsaken did on corpses.
Black rage began to build in her as she thought about it, her barely beating heart beginning to pump enough for her to feel it seething through her entire body. He'd discarded her, like it was nothing. He'd dishonored her body by leaving her to rot outside, not even bothering to throw her in a crypt. The sheer disrespect of the act burned inside of her like a flame. She shook with the force of her rage, of the idea of someone so inferior thinking they could treat her this way.
“Kerry...” Kelysia began. “People will have heard your screaming. We need to leave before they...” She was cut off as the woman she'd just brought back surged to her feet, the wounds she'd suffered still oozing blood. Her eyes blazed with scourge-light now, narrowed into slits of pure, unending malice.
“Kerry! You don't even have a WEAPON! Snap out of it and let's go!” Kelysia moved to intercept her friend, only to find the woman's hand shoving her back. The draenei stumbled on the pile of corpses that they stood upon, falling backwards and off of the dead onto the ground nearby, landing on her rump with an 'oof!'.
“So be it,” Kerryann said darkly. “If you wish to dishonor the dead, then we will see what they have to say.”
“Kerry! Stop it!” Kelysia shouted. It was already too late though as Kerryann's hand came up, deep purple magic flaring around it as she began to chant in the Language of Death. Strands of the magic touched the corpses around Kerryann as she applied her power in ways that she had not done in many years.
She began to use the necromancy that Sebastian had always envied so much.
Around her, corpses began to stir as they rose to their feet slowly, first one, then two more, then a dozen of them, all shambling towards their Mistress, who kept them in check only through the sheer force of her will. As Kelysia looked on in horror, Kerryann reached out and touched one of the corpses. It exploded into dust, and a cloud of necromantic energy flowed into the woman, stitching closed her wounds with a foul green light.
“SEBATIAN! YOU WISH TO SEE WHAT TRUE POWER YOU COULD HAVE HAD? COME OUTSIDE YOU COWARD!”
Her shouts alerted some of the Forsaken guards, and several poured out of the side of the structure. Kelysia drew her sword even as the first charged towards the woman standing on the corpse pile. Kerryann's unnatural eyes focused on the Forsaken and in that moment the creature knew what she was about to do.
She released her hold on the dead.
Like a mindless horde, the creatures gibbered and rushed across the remaining distance, already starting to tear the first guard to shreds. His screams echoed through the night as more guards poured out, pumping crossbow bolts into creatures that were far beyond the ability to feel pain.
A roiling battle ensued as the Forsaken tried to fight off the newly raised dead. As the combat swirled, Kerryann walked amongst her creatures, a dark figure with a look of utter hatred plastered to her face. Kelysia ran in behind her, trying to catch up to her and cutting down a few of the Forsaken guards as she reached for her friend.
“SESBASTIAN! COME OUT HERE THIS INSTANT! THIS IS NOT FINISHED BETWEEN US!”
Kerryann's hands came up and dark necromancy flared again, sending howling gales of ice and wind against the side of the building. Windows shattered inward, destroying furniture behind and several of the Forsaken were cut down where they stood. The ghouls around Kerryann began to gain the upper hand, feasting on the small garrison's flesh as the undead tore the undead to pieces.
The side of the structure exploded outward as an alchemical or mechanical device detonated. Kerryann raised a hand to shield her eyes as splinters of wood flew past her. From the smoking hole, a giant bat flew up into the night, a figure astride it looking down at her in hatred.
For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as Kerryann's eyes connected with Sebastian's, their mutual hate crossing the distance like arrows. In that moment, he realized she would never stop looking for him, her ambition and pride driving her onward forever. He shivered, even as the bat soared up into the air and out of reach of her spells.
“SEBASTIANNNNNNN!!!!!!”
Kerryann's irrational screams were cut off as Kelysia finally managed to cut her way through the battle and slap her friend hard in the face. “SNAP OUT OF IT! We don't have time to linger here. The structure is on fire and there's been a battle. I don't give a damn if your lover got away, we have to leave before more Forsaken are sent to investigate!”
For a moment, Kelysia thought that Kerryann might strike her, so intense was the glare of hatred on her face. After a second, she relaxed, a breath escaping her. She nodded, “Yes. Yes we must leave. But not before we do what the Forsaken are too vile to do. Let us finish off the guards and burn them, so they can go in peace.”
Kelysia looked at Kerryann once and then nodded. Together they turned back to the swirling melee, sword and magic at the ready.
*********************************
They rode side by side down the dark, moonlit path. Kerryann's undead steed was countered by the glowing light radiating from Kelysia's charger. Behind them, flames licked up into the sky, the fires now a pyre for the Forsaken garrison of the structure and their victims that had finally been given a chance at revenge thanks to Kerryann's magic.
As the two rode off, firelight glinted on the swords of the garrison, which Kerryann had carefully planted point down in neat rows as markers. All of the bodies were being consumed in the flames of the structure of course, but it was a gesture to honor the dead, something to remember the people that they might have been before they fell to darkness.
It seemed somehow appropriate to both the paladin and the death knight.
As they rode off into the forest of Silverpine, Kerryann's voice echoed through the night, raised up in a death dirge for the honored dead. The melody carried into the darkness, haunting in her unnatural voice, until it too faded and was replaced only by the snaps and pops of the roaring flames.
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