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Parigan (wowstead)

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re: A Story of Madness Part 2



That is all that awaited me in this strange new world. I was surrounded by an eternal emptiness, forever expansive. No emotion or physicality followed me here. All that was left was the void. I drifted for what seemed to be an eternity, until finally I sensed a new presence.

Light, eternal and unending, just as expansive as the darkness which receded around it. It appealed to every sensation I had. I not only saw the light, I felt its warmth, heard joyous noise from its depths, smelled and tasted is wondrous promises of happiness. I felt only the joy which it brought me, experienced only the ecstasy of an existence without laws or limits. There was only one force at work here, the power of the Light. As I gazed within the depths of the light, I saw a silhouette that gleamed brighter than a thousand suns, clear as day even in the ultimate illumination behind it. I approached, and saw a woman with free-flowing, beautiful scarlet hair, as if it were a wildfire upon a golden plain.


She smiled, radiating bliss. I neared her, reached out to be one with her, when a new presence entered the void. A new darkness, a much more sinister being that sought to grab hold of my soul and rip it from Brinnea’s grasp. Emotion ran through me, Mortality entered my being once more. Brinnea’s spirit vanished within the dark flames that rose from the Nether. I felt as if my soul was ripped apart and put together again by a six foot stitching needle. The pain was unbearable, and seemed to last an eternity. Then in an instant, I woke to life once more.

“Arise, and become Forsaken,” an unknown voice called out.

My eyelids peeled back slowly and light entered my vision once more. My first view was of the night sky, rendered insignificant next to the void I had been taken from. The expanse of darkness now seemed so limited, and the multitude of light from the numerous stars lacked the same feeling of joy the true Light had provided. I looked forward toward the voice’s origin. I saw a being bathed in light with the body of a beautiful woman. She had wings of a giant Gryphon’s, and stared at me from behind a horned helm.

My mind slowly began to wake, and I asked the first question I thought of, “Where am I?” I tried to get up, but could hardly move my body.

“This is Deathknell, you and the other bodies were brought here from Gilneas,” the woman responded.

My mind suddenly felt shock at what she had said, and again I asked the first question that came to my lips, “Bodies, as in, corpses?”

“Yes, the deaths were many in Gilneas when the Worgen attacked, but Lady Sylvanis used the attack to our advantage. She sent us Val’kyr to collect what dead we could after the attack.”

Val’kyr, Worgen, my mind slowly processed this new information. When I finally had my memory sorted, I realized that I had died, but was raised by the Forsaken to serve in undeath. Panic struck, all I could rap my mind around was that I should be dead. Looking down upon my hands, I did not recognize the sight I beheld. They were chewed to the bone by what I assumed were wolf fangs. The flesh had turned a sickly shade of pink. I felt my face, only to feel a scarred and decomposed lower jaw, and rotting flesh upon bone. The shock froze me. Only one thought presented itself in my mind.

“Brinnea, where is she?”

The Val’kyr answered, “If you mean the woman who came to the knell alongside you from the forest clearing, then she was already resurrected. She departed for the Glades hours ago.”

“Where?!” I responded harshly.

“I wouldn’t know so much. Ask Undertaker Mordo, he should have the answers you seek.”

She drifted towards a pile of rotted corpses to my right, leaving me in my patch of grass in the middle of an old cemetery. Looking around, I saw zombies missing parts all over the place. Gazing toward the mausoleum, I saw a couple of undead talking to each other. Only at this point did I realize the words we spoke weren’t normal. They didn’t sound the way I had remembered them, as if they were in a foreign language.

I lifted my body off the ground and wobbled onto my bare, bony feet. I took a step, and then another. After I gained my footing, I approached the undertaker.

“Ahh, another one, you must be…?” the undead man asked.

“Parigan,” I mumbled back to him.

“Yes, you are now a Forsaken, and must do what is necessary to serve the Banshee Queen, Lady Sylvanis. Do you accept your new role?”

I didn’t answer, I couldn’t. The situation was too much for me to handle.

“While you regain your tongue, head down into the mausoleum and grab some stitching supplies. Not all of these recruits have as many parts left as you.” The Undertaker pointed me to the building behind him. I descended the stairway into the small room below, and found the supplies. I brought them back up to Mordo.

“Thank you, now what do you say to my previous…”

“I only want to find Brinnea,” I cut him off midsentence; “I don’t care for your Forsaken, your queen, or you. I only want her, how can I find Brinnea?”

“Calm down,” Mordo replied, “Can you tell me what she looks like?”

“Young woman with red hair and pale skin, and would have come in with the other corpses.”

“She’s already gone, but if you do some work for me, I could tell you who can help you find her…”

We worked out a deal. I would serve the Forsaken, and the Forsaken would locate Brinnea for me. My every thought was focused on saving her from this fate. I set out from Deathknell to do work for the Forsaken. I would face many perils and near death experiences, but my fear had died along with my emotions. Only one emotion remained: rage, unfocused and dangerous. 

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