The Cold Embrace of Death {Short Story}

Post by Hellborne

“I...was...pure...once...”

The daunting sound of heavy metal clanked as it made contact with the steel ground. The steel made the sound echo for quite some time. With every time the connection between metal and steel was formed, the hair raising sound was created. Like the blacksmith’s hammer smashing into its sheet of metal on top of his anvil, the sound continued. It was rhythmic even. Not as lovely as a church choir, yet not as menacing as the dance between swords on the battle field. It met in the middle, creating a harmony of peace yet a sense of power.

“Fought...for...righteousness...”

However, the rhythmic clank was interrupted by a random sudden screech. It was like the heavy metal penetrated the steel ground. Like a hot knife through butter, yet only this time on a more menacing circumstance. It was apparent that what ever the metal was, made a immediate stop. The disturbing silence of the land settled down, and not even the rustle of a rat could be heard.

Standing tall and proud stood a figure clad in a battle armor made of black and blue plate. The knee, ankle, and elbow caps were large skulls that seemed to cry out in agony every time this man walked. Perhaps the calls of a hundred tormented screams would have been heard if not for the fact that these skulls were forged out of metal. The figure also adorned a helmet that protected all parts of its skull besides two eye sockets. Two large horns came up from the back and shot out front, like a bull’s horns. At the tips of these horns were the stains of a scarlet red. Many called these stains the remaining of the life force; blood.

At the side of this terrible figure was a sheathed sword. Like the figure’s armor, this too was black and blue. The handle was casted from the strongest metal that any person could use, yet the blade itself seemed...different. Regular blades used by mortals alike were of steel origination. This blade was something more. To the regular naked eye, one could not see it. Yet to the trained eye, one would be able to detect a forged crystal. This shiny blue crystal sparkled in the faint light of the sun that seemed to find its way into the cracks of the structure.

“I...was..called...paladin...”

The figure took one step forward. The same clink of metal and steel was heard once more. The echo was the same as earlier. It was clear that the plated foot guards were the reason for the strange sound. The steel cold ground below the figure was also the culperate to the sound. However, this time a cold sound also contributed. A close look at this figure saw that its very own breath was cold to the air. The air around the figure was not cold, at least not as cold as the frozen wastes of Northrend, yet still not cold enough to see ones breath.

“Betrayed...by my...order...”

The armored man took a step forward as he climbed one step of a staircase. Like the floor that it laid on, the stairs were made of steel. Whom ever was the decorator really liked his metal for everything.

“Destroyed...by...Kel’Thuzad..."

With every heavy step, the clad man reached the top of the staircase and his destination. He quickly took a quick look at his surroundings. He was inside a large structure, perhaps the size of a large fortress in the ancient city of Stormwind. The faint smell of rot could be smelled to those that had the ability to use that sense. The air was at a fair temperature, yet it was blue like the faint breath in a blizzard.

Everywhere one would turn, the repeated usage of skulls could be seen. It was as if Hollow’s End was happening, yet that was not for several more months. The blue pillars that held up the large and round ceiling above were like a totem pole the Tauren natives used, except instead of eagles and wolves they were replaced with skulls with mouthes wide open. Blue fire inside the pillar seemed to shot out from the agape mouth. Daunting, to say the least.

Shadows of swift moving men and women were seen, then disappeared. They all were adorned in robes of black with red and blue etching in the front. However, they appeared and disappeared inside the vast structure that it was hard to determine what race they were. However from the varying sizes of the frames of these people it could be determined that they were of all sort of races that the world of Azeroth was accustomed to.

Finally, in the center of the rounded and large amphitheater that our clad man was in was a large pyre constructed of what seemed to be giant logs of the size of men. The fire was a beautiful light blue with hints of a darker shade in the center. Yet this fire was not as innocent as it appeared. To the closer look, one could see that these giant logs that help up this giant flame were in fact corpses. Their charred bodies sealed their expressions at the last moment of life. Faces of horror, surprise, and fear.

“Made...to...serve...”

The armored man then looked up from the staircase to the front of him. Before him stood a giant throne, that seemed to sprawl for stories, yet was no taller than five meters. On top of the blue velvet cushion was a man in the typical robe that all the others in the structure wore. Yet this man did not have the hood to go with him. His face was pale as the snow of Icecrown and his eyes were as black as the ash of Blackrock. Purple tattoos were marked all over his face, like a cult symbol.

The man on the throne stepped down his two step walkway down to the same plane as the armored warrior was. He brushed off his robe and seemed to give a sinister grin.

“Do you remember who you are, slave?” The man inquired.

The armored man looked deep into the eyes of the obvious high ranking man.

“My...family...watched me...die...” Was the response.

The superior seemed displeased in this response. With a snap of his fingers on his right hand, the interrogated man felt a wave of a sharp pain hit his body like a charm overcame his body. He cringed and held his chest plate with his gauntlet.

“So...do you remember who you are?” The man repeated.

The charm was lifted, and the pain ended. The armored warrior seemed to calm down, and in between of unneeded breaths answered, “Yes...I was Joshua the Clean in life...”

The superior seemed most pleased. He gave a whole heartedly laugh. “Very good. And what happened to you?” He continued with his questions.

This time, without any hesitation or reluctance out of fear of the charm, the man answered, “Crusades...fed my rage...”

“Tisk-tisk. If only you could have harnessed that rage. Then perhaps you would not be in this position. Tell me, what is the truth behind all of this?” The man shot another question at the poor, shaken, and very undead warrior before him.

“Truth is unknown to him. As is to all of us. We are made to serve our masters, and that is all,” A more sophisticated and above-all-else voice chimed in. The familiar sound of plated boots making contact with metal was heard, this time lighter and at a quicker pace. From the left door, which was decorated in the usual skull outlook, came another metal warrior. However, as apposed to the black and blue of the undead Joshua, this newcomer had a dark red set up. Also his stature had him much taller than Joshua, yet still retaining a slime figure.

“Excellent, Mordanna, you never fail to know when to walk in at great timings. I was just introducing our new brother in undeath. You know, the one you brought us,” The cultist motioned his hand to the undead Joshua. Mordanna seemed to care less and gave the pathetic un living human a quick glance. Even in undeath, Mordanna retained his elvish arrogance.

“Why bother, Zelatrish? They are all just fodder to the Scourge,” Mordanna asked.

“Like you when you were just brought into our ranks? I remember a certain dead elf that had no idea how to even use a damn blade!” Zelatrish retorted. When the elf seemed to step down and back away a few feet and Zelatrish calmed down, he continued, “And now I suppose you need a new name. Joshua is too pure and alive.” The superior seemed to ponder for a moment. “From this day forth, you are known as Cain. The name of ultimate evil. Yes, and you will grow into your name soon enough,”

Cain. I have a name now. That is something right? I mean, it could be worse. I could be a pathetic skeleton or rotting ghoul, I mean a powerful Death Knight is something, right?

Cain slowly rose to his feet. He was done shaking in pain from this Zelatrish’s curse. He was done being weak. He was a new creature, a more powerful husk of power than his previous life. This was like starting a new life. When the Light that guided him for ages during the reign of the Scarlet Crusade forsaken him, the angels of death rescued him. Yes, this was a new, and better, beginning. This time, it will be he who will bring wrath, and not upon the undead Scourge like before. Now, his unending wrath shall be focused against the vile Scarlet Crusaders. The people he called family and home after his family was killed and his home plagued. It was a new life, a new start. His family was the Scourge, his home the Lich King. And he shall serve no other than the greatest force to be reckoned with in this mortal and living world.

“Hmm, the man feels it. The embrace of the Lich King and Kel’Thuzad is grasped around his rotted brain. Tell me, Cain, who are your worse enemies?” Mordanna asked. Behind his plated helmet, his still mostly intact eyebrow raised, awaiting the answer.

“Scarlet...Crusade...is pure...no longer!” Cain erupted in a loud and booming call. He pulled out his crystal sword and pointed it to Zelatrish. “I demand living blood of Scarlet origin now!” He demanded. The reborn Death Knight was ready to slaughter his once allies.

“My my my, someone is just a little anxious,” Mordanna muttered under the plate. It seemed as if the other two did not hear. The dead elf remained in the background, waiting to see where this would unfold.

When Mordanna himself was raised, he was told he would be the greatest Death Knight, a herald of the Lich King himself. The still arrogant elf liked the sound of that. He made sure he was most excellent in the art of battle, honing in on his abilities to use the blade. He was blessed with such a powerful blade that some mortals died at the mere sight of it. He was too proud to realize that he was not a one man army. No, the massing armies of the Scourge in Lordaeron outnumbered the elf several million to one.

No matter, I will still be the very best. No one will ever come close.

And it was this arrogance that made him curious to see why so many were so interested in this new specimen. Kel’Thuzad personally saw to it that this former Scarlet was killed and it was Mordanna himself that killed the poor fool. He gave a good fight, yet it is always death that wins. It is inevitable for all to die, some sooner than others. Zelatrish, claimed by many to be one of the greatest necromancers of the Scourge army, raised this Cain himself. Yet, none of this answered why everyone wanted this man.

Post by Hellborne

“Cain, your time for blood will come. Yet as for now, you must come to know your undead brothers. The Lordaeron front is a difficult one, and only the greatest of the greatest undead warriors may fight. You have already met Mordanna, yet there a few more that I wish for you to see,” Zelatrish said. He brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled. “Morec! Come!” He ordered.

The sound of footsteps were heard, as usual. This time it was coming from the right. Cain glanced over to the right door, the same as the left. Yet the footsteps was overshadowed by another sound. A more vocal sound. Laughter. Laughter in such place? How could one laugh in a place full of death, and a fire made of corpses? And this was no child’s playful laughter either, this was a more sinister and evil laugh. Cain was worried what he would see come out of that door.

Out came a tall man, as tall as Mordanna. His armor was similar Cain’s and Mordanna’s perhaps a combination of both. The armor of Cain’s heavy plate, even down to the twisted horned helmet. Yet the color was a more red color, like Mordanna’s suit.

“What is it Zela? Can you not see I was in such a good mood? The undead ladies you raised just for me where in such a playful mood!” Morec loudly proclaimed. He seemed to mutter to himself, something about ladies and mood, like he was talking to himself. Strange to say the least.

“I called you here Morec to introduce you to our new subject, Cain,” Zelatrish introduced Cain as he motioned to the man. Morec looked over to Cain, and both gave a long stare down. Their undead eyes that held no emotion seemed to tell a lot just right there.

And as Mordanna and Zelatrish expected, Morec bursted into a fit of laughter. This Death Knight’s laugh was chilling, and simply scary. “He won’t last a day! Let alone prove himself!” Morec sputtered out. Then, in a more hushed tone, said to himself, “I have too proved myself, shut up italics...”

“You will see for yourself, Morec. I will rid the world of the pesky Scarlets,” Cain announced. He seemed so confident for a newly raised undead. With every word, the embrace of the Lich King grew stronger around his mind.

“Balnazzar’s crusade has corrupted you, “Cain,” Morec told Cain. “I have seen it before, once loyal Scarlets hell bent on killing us all, then once raised, into the whole ‘I will kill them all!’” Morec added. With that, he ended his speech. Not before muttering to himself about killing.

I will kill them all. I will protect Lordaeron. Then suddenly death to all the living. Does this remind you of anyone, Morec?

"Shut up italics! You are not the wise one, bold is!"

You rang?

Post by Hellborne

“And lastly, a demon of hideous origins whom can not wait to meet you, Cain,” Zelatrish grinned his evil grin.

It seemed at the very mention of this demon made both Mordanna and Morec shudder. They both took a few steps back, until their backs were pressed back against the cold wall. Zelatrish walked past Cain and walked down the stairs that Cain himself walked up earlier. The new Death Knight’s gaze followed the cultist as he slowly went down the stairs and paced over the fire. The fire of corpses did not phase Cain anymore, perhaps it was the Lich King or the fact that he would like to do the same to Scarlets himself.

When the superior cultist reached the fire, he raised his arms, and in doing so turned the calm light blue fire into a raging red inferno. Sparks shot out in every direction. The robes of other cultists caught aflame. Some would probably die, seeing as they were not getting any help. Oh well, more undead.

“Rise, Demon of Terrible Death, Harborer of Demise, Leader of the Damned, Caller of the Liches!” Zelatrish ordered as he continued with his charismatic charade of arm dancing. It felt like the metallic ground below would melt from the intense heat.

And like a giant boom, as if a giant had smashed its two hands together, a blinding light penetrated the eyes of all around. Cain had to shield himself from the intense light and heat coming from the pyre. How Zelatrish will be able to live that was beyond him. And as soon as the light appeared, it disappeared. Cain slowly looked back to where the fire was. The superior cultist still stood tall and proud, yet the corpses were long gone and the fire as well. Instead, it was replaced with a new figure, the demon that many seemed to fear.

For a brief instant, Cain made eye contact with the figure from all the way down the stairs and a ways. Then, the next thing he knew the demon was gone and held a long sword to his neck. The sword was quite wide, and had glowing white runes that Cain could tell would rip his spine out of his body while his last undead life left him. Mordanna seemed to give a gasp, be it from horror or glee was beyond anyone.

The next thing Cain noticed was how...short this demon was. He, rather she from obvious features, was no taller than a child! Yet Cain did not want to show his curiosity.

“Cain, may I present to you Anura, the most feared Death Knight from here to err, well anywhere. As you could have noticed, even the greats Mordanna and Morec shiver in their boots. And they will be punished for that later,” The superior cultists introduced the demon to Cain. However it was then that he noticed something, this demon was no demonic nature, rather of gnomish nature.

And this so called demon gave a curtsy! “Anura at your service, Cain. We have been talking much about you,” The very feminine voice spoke. It was soft like silk, yet echoed like a yell in a cave. So...odd.

So this is the Cain everyone was talking about. Not as big as I imagined, but who am I to talk? Granted stature means little to power, heh.

“Take off your helmet,” Anura ordered. Cain seemed to hesitate. Was this some sort of trial, a test, or some sort of trick? “I suggest you do it,” Anura added for comfort.

And with that, Cain took off his helmet. His face showed signs of rot, yet still retained most of skin, albeit a lot pale and his eyes lost his blue color to a more redish tint.

Cute, too. Anura giggled.

“Very well then, thank you,” Anura nodded in acceptance. She had seen all she needed to see. When battle came, then she would take a closer look at him. And with that, Anura left to Zelatrish’s side, who was at the top of the staircase.

“So, Cain, do you feel welcomed yet into the brotherhood of undead? Can you feel it?” The cultist asked the newborn Death Knight.

Cain looked down at his gauntlets. Only days ago they were of crimson color, and wielded the Holt Light with great power. Days ago, he himself was a powerful and valiant Crusader who seeked to purge Lordaeron of all of these filth. It seemed like yesterday he remembered the chain of events that led him to the Crusade.

The betrayal...

The murder of his family...

The formation of the Crusade...and the last hope for Lordaeron...

Now, those memories were just weighing him down. He needed to purge these memories, not the undeath he now called allies. That was yesterday, and yesterday seems so far away. His problems were now solved and he knew how to live this new life in the greatest he could. He would eradicate all living in his homeland, and all of Azeroth. With these new found allies, Mordanna, Morec, and Anura, he would wreck great wrath upon all that apposed him, and the Scourge.

And now...who do you serve?

“You, my king,” Cain muttered to the voice inside his head. It was a cold and chill voice, like ice.

“And my faithful servants, what is the plan?” The same voice, the terrible voice of the Lich King asked to all in the room. And in perfect unison, they all responded.

“Kill.

Them.

All.”

Post by Neonhyper

Enjoyed, very much so.

All though I'm kinda biased to outside characters being written into stuff... especially if one is mine <_<

BUT IT WAS STILL AMAZING.

Waiting for more works from you...

Post by Monday

I.

Like.

Muchly.

Post by Behelich

This

Is.

AWESOME!

*applies Alu's seal of approval via a roundhouse kick.*

The fact that Mordanna had the most lines of all the guest characters helped.

Post by Morec0

UNMITIGATED BADASSERY!

*Stamps Morec of Rivendare's Seal of Approval untill it is no longer legible*

Excellent! When you had asked to use Morec of the the Scourge, though, I had thought you meant Scourgelord William Morec. Clearly, though, I was mistaken. I went into this thinking I'd see the Scourgelord, read his intro, thought it was odd, and continued reading slightly confused. By the time it reached "Shut up italics" though I had it figured out.

And this got me thinking; we should start up another Willow-type story - after or maybe shortly before Willow is done/drops off the face of Azeroth - staring these said Death Knights and their path leading up to Light's Hope and maybe beyond. That would be.

PURE UNMITIGATED BADASSERY!

Post by Hellborne

Writer's Commentary

-Let me just say this first: That was loads of fun to write. It was not much in my honest opinion, but it was so god damn fun to write.

-My thanks to MorecofRivendare, Neonhyper, and Alucard for letting me use their awesome characters. I seriously suggest any one to read their works. It has been a pleasure, seriously.

-This actually evolved from a very small idea I had. I had an idea that this rough idea would some how fit in Light's Eclipse, but I scrapped that. Then I thought about making a companion to Light's Eclipse in its own series. That, too, seemed far fetched. Then I decided to pay homage to some of my persoanl inspirations.

-I just want to point out that each cameo had roughly had the same amount of spotlight. It seems slighlty lopsided due to Zelatrish and Cain. But I just want all to know I do not play favorites! I love each of these wonerful people!

-Ok, now more serious stuff. I had Mordanna as an arrogant and jealous elf that has his doubts of Cain. Imagine the (sorry) prep and snobby girl at high school that could actually kick some ass. As for Morec, I was going to use Scourgelord originally, yet decided against it. At this point I wanted some sort humor in the story. As many know, crazy 4th wall breaking Morec is just awesome. He, too, has his doubts of Cain, yet his sense of humor sort of conteracts Mordanna's serious tone. Finally, the Demon of Terrible Death, Harborer of Demise, Leader of the Damned, Caller of the Liches. At this point I knew exactly what to do for everyone's favorite little death. Anura was just a riot of fun for me.

-And if you did not notice, I used the Ashbringer whispers, a few slightly editted. Seemed to make logical sense seeing as both Cain and Alexandros Mograine were both Scarlets turned Scourge. Plus, I just love the quotes. Leave me alone.

-Did I mention that Morec, Hyper, and Alu are just aweome? Or, simply put, they have signs of...

PURE UNMITIGATED BADASSERY!

And as for Morec's interesting idea, I would be on board. However I would prefer Willow's story be finished before any other attempt to create a new story.

The Cold Embrace of Death {Short Story}

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