Beckyann walked swiftly through the night, her path taking her into the Old Town region of Stormwind. She'd spent the day in the city, wearing a dress and dark glasses and mingling amongst the populace as they went about their daily routines. Her objective was to see how far she could blend into the crowds, and the experiment had been fairly successful despite a few incidents where local citizens had spit at her or flung harsh words her way. It seemed that if she was cautious, she might be able to serve her fellow knights with espionage from time to time.
It was night now though, and time for her to return to Acherus for her nightly regeneration. She also would need to file reports with one of the officers once she determined which officer would be most interested in the capabilities she was testing. As she thought about it, she turned down a narrow alley, looking for a quiet place to open a death gate where the citizens would not be alarmed or offended. As she entered the alley's opening, she subconsciously pulled the overcoat that she wore over her dress more tightly.
The gesture made her pause and smirk at herself. The motion had been as natural as breathing used to be, and yet, like breathing, it was pointless. She wasn't cold despite the cooler night air. If her dress was exposed no men would leer at her or approach her. There was no need for her to cover herself, and yet her body still went about its business, as if she were a living woman still. It was amusing what habits were ingrained into one's mind after a lifetime, even in death.
As she completed the thought, movement caught her eye up ahead in the alley. She peered in that direction and saw two men step from shallow doorways that she'd not noticed previously. They were rough looking men, dressed as the poor of the city often dress and they both had smirks on their faces as they eyed her over. The situation was almost comical to the death knight as she realized that the men thought they had found a lone woman walking through this dangerous part of the city at night. It was exactly why she had subconsciously pulled the overcoat tighter, and again it was entirely false.
Even still, Beckyann knew she couldn't just slaughter the men. There were standing orders against using her powers in the city, and if any of the Knights started suddenly causing massacres within Stormwind's walls, it would reflect poorly on all her kind. It was her duty to remove herself from the situation as quickly as possible, without bloodshed. She turned and took a step towards the alley's opening, only to find that two more men had come up behind her while she was unawares, and she nearly collided with the nearest of them.
"Well, what have we here lads?" one of the men behind Beckyann said with a smirk.
The man that she had nearly collided with stepped forward, his hands grabbing her arms. As he made contact with her and felt the cold that emanated from her body, a deep frown settled over his face. "I think it's a deader, boss," he said in a whiny voice.
The voice behind her replied, much closer this time, "Then she ain't no use for fun and she's a write off. Get rid of 'er and take 'er coin."
"With pleasure," another voice said. Even as Beckyann tried to pull herself from the grasp of the man holding her she felt a sharp blade pierce her back. It was withdrawn and plunged into her again and again. She could feel her diseased blood gush from her as her assailant stabbed her over and over, the street gang used to committing brutal murders under the cover of darkness.
Normally such wounds would do little to slow her, but the last stab of the knife was to her neck, and the blade plunged deep, severing vital, necromantically maintained connections. Beckyann felt herself fall forward, the man holding her supporting her weight as his friends continued the assault. She knew she had no option; she was going to have to kill the men if she wanted to continue to exist. Rage began to fill her, a pounding pulse that was almost like a heartbeat to the dead woman. She struggled to keep it in check, knowing she would ruin everything in another moment with an outburst of magic.
Just then a shrill whistle sounded, and all eyes turned to the mouth of the alley. Standing there was a man in gleaming plate armor, a number of Stormwind Guards behind him. He held the whistle in his hand and a sword in the other and he scowled at the men in the alley, "Unhand that woman at once! You are under arrest by order of His Majesty's guard. Put your weapons down immediately!"
The men barked out curses and quickly turned to flee back up the alley, pushing Beckyann away. She tumbled to the cobblestones of the alley, the hard surface rushing up to meet her face, her blood splattering everything. She could hear the boots of her assailants pounding on the ground as they fled, the sound of the guards pursuing them louder as they passed her prone form.
She lay there for a moment, trying to will her damaged body to heal enough to allow her to move. Suddenly, she felt hands on her back lifting her and gently turning her over. As she was turned, her baleful blue eyes met the concerned look of the guard captain as he examined her. She could hear the sharp intake of breath as he realized what she was.
"Easy lass," he said softly, "You've been stabbed pretty bad. My men'll round up those thugs, but I'll see what I can do for you here."
Beckyann would have laughed if her lungs weren't punctured at the moment. She shook her head, trying to talk and issuing only a gurgle. She turned and spat a thick glob of diseased, brackish blood out before replying, "Just leave me here. I've no need for your concern. I was dead before they started on me, and I'll be dead after you're gone. Just go."
The captain shook his head and gently reached up, pulling a holy symbol from within the chestplate of his armor. Beckyann's eyes widened as she felt the power of the Light within the object, and within the man as he began to call upon it. If she were still living, she would have been flush with humiliation. The man smiled at her and replied again in a soft tone, "No. I will do what I can for you. You don't deserve to lay here with rats chewing on you until you're able to crawl away. I'm...I'm not sure if this will be pleasant for you, but I will do what I can."
Beckyann just blinked at him stupidly, her eyes affixed to the holy symbol, "B-but why? Why do you care? Just leave me alone. I should never have come here."
The paladin laid a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze in reassurance before speaking again, "I am helping you because this alley is not full of corpses right now. Yes, I know what you are. I can see it and FEEL it as plain as day. And yet you are more than that, aren't you lass? Those men weren't torn limb from limb. You're not an animal or a monster, just a lost soul and the Light teaches that anyone can be redeemed in the end. Now hold still lass, like I said, this might not be too comfortable."
Beckyann opened her mouth to speak again but at that moment, the paladin called upon the Light and poured it into her form, directing it to heal her wounds. Her eyes widened and her back arched as unendurable agony pounded away at every dead nerve ending in her unholy body. Her head tilted back and she screamed up at the sky as holy Light shone forth from her mouth, her eyes, and all of the stab wounds on her back and neck.
The pain seemed to go on for an eternity, almost as bad as the worst torture she had ever endured. Beckyann's entire body shuddered with it as the paladin directed the Light through her. He knew his work well though, and despite her condition the stab wounds slowly closed over and stopped oozing her diseased fluids. After a moment, the paladin removed his hand and the Light stopped, the sudden absence of it and the ending of the pain making the death knight drop to the cobblestones. She gasped, her hands splayed out on the stone as the last lingering bits of pain faded. She looked up at the man, who smiled sadly at her.
For a moment in time their eyes met, and then she looked away, too humiliated and impure to stare into the gaze of someone so devoted to the Light. She could hear him as he got up and brushed his clothing off, and she knew he was looking down at her.
"I'm sorry lass, but hopefully that should get you back home. You can use this alley if you uh...need to cast a spell to do so," he murmured to her before stepping away.
As she was left alone, Beckyann trembled, slowly pulling herself to her feet. The healing had made her feel all of the decay and damage her body had gone through over the years since her death. It had brought back every bit of the death-agony she'd suffered before being made into what she was. And yet, for a moment, an errant breeze brought the scent of a baked pie to her nose from somewhere else in the district, her senses having been rejuvenated for a moment. She breathed in deeply, a part of her reveling in the scent which she knew would fade again in moments.
Sighing, she shook her head and looked down at herself. Her dress was torn in a dozen places and spattered with black blood. Her hair was likely ruined, and her thrashing had scuffed her shoes and broken the glasses she'd had in her pouch. And, to top it all off, one of the damned thugs HAD stolen her coin purse before running off.
"Son of a bitch," she muttered. "Back to the crypts for me. There is NO WAY I am going back to Acherus looking like this."
She muttered the words to a necromantic spell, waiting for her dead gryphon to come and bear her away from the scene. As she mounted the hissing creature and flew off, she swore silently to herself that she would NEVER tell ANYONE that a paladin had aided her that night.
Ever.
No comments:
Post a Comment