Prognosis strode confidently into the inn, turning and taking the ramp to the upper levels. There, in the middle of the room, lay Sangrias Stillblade’s limp body. There was no life left in him, and his skin was already pale and cold.
‘The Magister seems quite confident that this vial will resurrect Stillblade, but how can such magics exist and not be corrupt and vile? Are we not twisting the powers of the light by our inability to wield them naturally and thus bending them to our will?’
Prognosis kneels down, setting the vessel on Stillblade’s chest and whispering for guidance. Taking a deep breath, Prognosis opens the vial and closes her eyes. A flash of light radiates from the vessel with a force so strong that it almost knocks Prognosis over, and with a warmth so comforting that any thoughts of the magic within being corrupt are immediately banished from thought.
‘By all that is holy, how can the power of the light be so strong when the magisters that this magic was pulled from are so weak and lifeless?’
Only a few seconds passed, but to Prognosis it felt like years. So many unanswered questions now consumed her thoughts, and yet a confidence previously unknown filled every fiber of her being.
“I must speak to Bloodvalor about my duties. Death is not an experience I want to relive, and I am certain it is not an experience that could grow more pleasant with time,” grumbles Stillblade, the color having returned to his skin. “I will admit, I thought I had you at first. You are the first to beat me, Prognosis, I will be quite interested in hearing of your progress within the ranks of the Order.”
Not waiting for a reply, Stillblade walks down the ramp and out of the inn and leaves Prognosis kneeling on the floor, her head still reeling.
‘To what end will this path take me? I know very few of our people have been able to wield the powers of the light proficiently… a fact that is evident by the dwindling numbers of the Blood Knight Order. Never before have I felt such power, such pure and righteous power, as was unleashed mere moments ago. Could this be our race’s path to redeeming ourselves for the many years we were misled under Kael’thas Sunstrider’s rule?’
Prognosis slowly rises to her feet. An unfamiliar power flows within, a power that not only conveys warmth and confidence but also a sense of protection and retribution.
‘I have made the right choice. Whether this path leads me to destruction or salvation is yet to be seen, but there can be no denying the true, pure power the light conveys upon those who walk the path of the holy.’
Prognosis emerges from the inn and turns toward the Blood KNight Headquarters. No longer driven by a strange paranoia, or a fear of being attacked at random, she strides toward Farstrider’s Square calmly and confidently.
‘Bloodvalor, you have some explaining to do.’
DISCLAIMER: The events in this story are based upon actual elements of the World of Warcraft game, although I am taking liberties wherever I decide to make the events fit the story I am crafting.
- Table of Contents:
- Installment One – (RP) Blood Knight
- Installment Two – (RP) Blood Knight: Acceptance
- Installment Three – (RP) Blood Knight: Redemption
‘Knight-Lord Bloodvalor certainly has some explanation, yet I cannot fathom why I would be perceived as enough of a threat to have me eliminated. What good can come of destroying those whose aspirations are to strengthen the order.’
As the dragonhawk lands outside Silvermoon, Prognosis inhales deeply.
‘May the Light grant me strength.’
Prognosis calmly walks through the gates to the city, striding purposefully and proudly toward the back of the city. Uncertain as to whether another attack may be forthcoming, she cautiously makes her way back to Blood Knight Headquarters.
Knight-Lord Bloodvalor watches Prognosis enter, his face an emotionless mask. Before Prognosis has a chance to speak he holds up his hand briefly, and begins his explanation:
“Do not think me unduly harsh, Prognosis. Stillblade knew well what he was being sent to do. He understood and accepted his duty, and is an example for all aspiring Blood Knights.”
“Make no mistake, my words are no eulogy. Stillblade’s service to us is far from over, and you will be the instrument of his resurrection.”
“Your education in the order’s ways has just begun. With the betrayal of Kael’thas and the loss of our power source, you must learn new methods of wielding the Light. Seek out Magister Astalor Bloodsworn.”
As he finishes the last statement, Knight-Lord Bloodvalor turns to a young newcomer interested in joining the order. Prognosis turns, her mind flooded with curiosity at the mention of learning how to resurrect the fallen.
‘So this was nothing more than a test, albeit a potentially fatal one. Would I have been resurrected had I failed?’
Prognosis turns and moves up the ramp, seeking out Magister Bloodsworn.
‘I must remember that, at least until I am accepted completely into the order, there is no safety even among the ranks of the Blood Knights.’
DISCLAIMER: The events in this story are based upon actual elements of the World of Warcraft game, although I am taking liberties wherever I decide to make the events fit the story I am crafting.
- Table of Contents:
- Installment One – (RP) Blood Knight
- Installment Two – (RP) Blood Knight: Acceptance
- Installment Three – (RP) Blood Knight: Redemption
Darkness envelops Prognosis as she moves into the cave, causing an almost electrical sensation to course through her body. Undaunted, however, she continues steadily onward in search of the brazier Knight-Lord Bloodvalor described, eager to undertake The First Trial and prove her capabilities, subsequently becoming inducted to the order.
Breathing deeply, Prognosis peers into the darkness. The faint outline of a steel ring is discernible just ahead. She moves closer and kneels before the brazier, calling upon the energies of the light to create a small flame. As the fire grows Prognosis peers closer, focusing on the flame as Knight-Lord Bloodvalor instructed.
‘Something feels wrong,’ Prognosis thinks as she peers into the flames.
The slight glint from a blade warns her of danger a mere second before the blade is thrust straight forward, nicking Prognosis’ throat as she rolls out of the way and leaps to her feet.
“Perhaps you aren’t as worthless as it appeared you were about to be,” states her attacker as he lunges forward again, the blade of his polearm aimed straight at Prognosis’ exposed neck.
Her sword suddenly in hand, Prognosis manages to parry the attack, twisting her wrist at the last moment and turning in closer to her opponent. Her words barely audible, Prognosis channels her meager control of the light in an effort to weaken her obviously surprised attacker and inflict enough damage to pause his attacks.
Laughing, her opponent reveals his identity as a member of the Order when he starts to call upon the powers of the light to heal his wounds. Realizing this may be her only opening, Prognosis thrusts her sword forward, the blade sinking deeply into her opponent’s exposed side.
Staring at her in disbelief the Blood Knight drops his weapon, and then sinks to the ground.
“I take no pride in killing a fellow paladin. May the Light watch over you in death.”
Gathering her belongings, Prognosis turns back to the entrance of the cave. As she reaches the entrance she glances back at the lifeless body of her opponent, and an onslaught of thoughts rush through her head.
‘One thing is certain, the journey back to Silvermoon should give me time to reflect on the events of this day. It is quite obvious this task was designed to be my end.’
DISCLAIMER: The events in this story are based upon actual elements of the World of Warcraft game, although I am taking liberties wherever I decide to make the events fit the story I am crafting.
- Table of Contents:
- Installment One – (RP) Blood Knight
- Installment Two – (RP) Blood Knight: Acceptance
- Installment Three – (RP) Blood Knight: Redemption
Byaghro, standing off to the side of the Champion’s Ring, watches the competitors intensely fighting until their opponents can no longer stand. Not even the fresh snows of Icecrown can cleanse the blood from the field where hundreds of competitors have had to be carried away.
“Ye be competing today lass?” asks a fellow crusader, an old grizzled dwarf by the name of Arv.
“Nay. The competition no longer holds a challenge. Of course, you know this as well as I,” responds Byaghro, “although I hear the coliseum is nearing completion and will present us with some new challenges soon enough.”
“Aye, them Argent fellas are tryin’ to keep it quiet. Methinks there be somethin’ they’re ‘fraid of involvin’ the place.” Arv pauses a moment before adding, in a hushed tone, “Ye know the Silver Covenant to be involved here…”
Byaghro nods, her eyes never straying from the field before them, “Aye.”
“Well, word is they be plannin’ to use the coliseum to test the crusaders and see who be fit to lead the assault on Icecrown Citadel.”
Finally breaking her gaze away from the field to look at Arv, Byaghro sighs, “For a self-proclaimed scholar you sure have a knack of making the information we all have heard to sound like such a secret.” She laughs, and starts to walk toward the stables, “Come Arv, let us see if you have improved enough to best me today!”
Arv grumbles as he follows Byaghro, “Lass, were I able to beat ya I woulda by now, but I can still make ya work hard for it!”
Disclaimer: Although this story and the subsequent chapters are based on events in-game, they are meant to be completely separate and will, almost certainly, contain completely fictitious pieces of information as well.
If you are just joining us please start with CREATE YOUR OWN AZEROTH: PRELUDE from Hardcore Casual.
This segment is a continuation from Create Your Own Azeroth: The Southern Gate. over at Circumspect Snug.
Corrigan lets out a low sigh, heard only by Rondrey. Without another moment’s hesitation he looks at the possessed citizens moving toward them with emotionless eyes and issues the command none wanted to hear: “Men, attack!”
I have failed yet again… not only could I not protect the woman I loved, but I cannot even protect a handful of citizens from death, and by my own hand no less! Sylphine, have mercy on me.
“Commander…” Rondrey’s voice trails off as Corrigan brushes him aside, launching his hammer into the mass of banshees moving toward them.
“It is too late old friend, hesitation will surely get us killed,” Corrigan states, his voice lifeless. The remaining stupor from the rum washed away by the realization that those he was supposed to protect were dying by his own order.
Laughter emanates from the treeline as the Necromancer reappears. The clanging of metal and the screams of men, women, and even children dying in the scuffle with the banshees failing to drown him out. Blood flows freely around the remaining soldiers under Corrigan’s command as Rondrey focuses his undivided attention to the handful of citizens left.
“Feel the despair and fear coursing through your very souls,” the Necromancer taunts, his icy glare fixated on Corrigan. “See the futility in fighting my forces now foolish paladin?” He laughs as legions of ghouls, skeletons, and abominations appear through the trees, surrounding the small band of people that remain.
With a roar that seems more bestial than dwarven, Rondrey suddenly breaks into a charge toward the Necromancer, “Filthy, stinkin’, no-good scourge!” Rondrey’s charge catches everyone by surprise, bolstering the spirits of the men and inciting a rage and determination that shines through as they cut down every miserable, vile creature in their path. Limbs fly as the stench of ghoulish blood fills the air. The men seem invincible, parrying or avoiding every incoming attack and responding with unprecedented accuracy in dealing certain death to their foes.
What seems an eternity passes before their charge is slowed, a wall of dead scourge practically surrounding them. Regaining his senses Rondrey turns to look at Corrigan, still standing motionless where he was when Rondrey’s charge caught them all by surprise. A feeling of loss sweeps through every shred of his being as he realizes the reason for Corrigan’s lack of movement, and the small blade protruding from underneath the plate armor on his chest. Corrigan’s body finally falls to its knees, staying there as though locked in prayer as Rondrey looks away with a tear falling down his cheek.
“Yer gonna pay dearly for that,” Rondrey growls at the Necromancer.
A deep, gravelly voice booms from all around them as the Necromancer laughs. Arthas’ image appears before the men, practically draining their strength and replacing it with fear. The image speaks, its gaze locked firmly on Rondrey, “You will wish for a quick death soon enough, priest.”
Rondrey starts to issue a challenge, but is shocked into silence as he hears a sudden cold, soulless laugh from behind. Rondrey whirls around, and in the brief moment it took to realize what he was seeing he lost all hope. They were surrounded still, and although they fought well there was no way they would be able to defeat this newcomer…
The men gasped, and weapons clattered to the ground as fear sucked every ounce of strength left from them. They watched, hopelessly, as Corrigan slowly stood up from the ground where he fell. Corrigan’s skin was now pale, his lips lifeless, and his eyes burning bright with the stare of the undead.
Corrigan laughed menacingly as he looked to Arthas’ visage, “What is your command, Master?”
Arthas’ voice boomed around them once more, “Kill them, and bring the priest to me. This is your test, Death Knight. Succeed, and you will have earned your place among my ranks.”
Arthas’ visage disappears as the sky suddenly darkens. Rondrey falls to his knees, and utters a final prayer to the Light for mercy on Corrigan’s soul.
Corrigan advances, slaughtering the remaining soldiers and citizens as he makes his way to Rondrey’s still kneeling form. Corrigan raises his hand toward Rondrey, unleashing an assault of icy energy point-blank into the priest. Rondrey is knocked back, but with a grim determination he finishes uttering the last of an incantation he began moments before. Surges of holy energy fill Rondrey’s body as he stands, and in a final moment of desperation he unleashes e wave of light so powerful it incinerates him in the process.
As the dust settles the Necromancer surveys the field before him. Not a single man, woman, or child remains breathing, though any of his scourge minions that were within ten yards of that priest’s range were vaporized as well. He looks over to where Corrigan stands, and begins a wild cackling that could barely be described as laughter.
Corrigan looks up at the Necromancer, not a single trace of emotion even beginning to soften the edge in his voice, “A futile gesture, foolish priest,” he whispers. Corrigan turns and starts the trek to Icecrown Citadel, pausing momentarily to look the Necromancer straight in the eyes, “Gather your minions, you report to me now.”
The End
I hope you liked the story! If this seems like something you want to see again or to get involved with please let us know over on the CYOA Message Board.
If you are just joining us please start with CREATE YOUR OWN AZEROTH: PRELUDE from Hardcore Casual.
Grabbing his Hammer, Corrigan turns to exit the tent. He pauses, and kneels briefly at the door.
May the Light bring us strength on this day.
Corrigan rushes out of the tent, and charges to the front lines. As he runs murmurs of surprise spread throughout the lines. Merely having Corrigan’s presence among them seems to bolster the soldiers’ spirits. As Corrigan reaches the front gate and realizes just how close the walls are to crumbling he stops and turns to the men and women under his command.
“On this day we will deliver a message to our enemies. On this day we will show them the strength of Azeroth’s people. We will stand and fight the corrupt, the vile, the Scourge. Cleanse the fear from your hearts! Stand with me, and let us show Arthas’ minions that we shall not falter!”
How can we withstand such an onslaught? There is no doubt that many will die here today.
Corrigan shakes the last of the cobwebs from his mind as the gates fall. Wave after wave of disgusting Scourge soldiers collide with the polished armor of Corrigan’s troops. Blood flows freely, staining the ground in a matter of moments. Cries of strength and honor are cut short, twisting into barely audible gurgles as windpipes are smashed or torn.
“For the Light!” Corrigan yells as he rushes into the fray, his hammer felling three and four Scourge at a time. “Stand fast! Drive these vile creatures back through the gate!”
As the battle rages it becomes clear the Alliance forces are horribly outnumbered. Without some miracle Corrigan and his troops will be fatefully overrun soon. Rondrey makes his way to Corrigan’s side, assuring him the last of the civilians have been evacuated, or are at least as safe as possible with the remaining soldiers.
Breathing heavily, Corrigan turns to Rondrey during a brief lull in the attack, “Old friend, we cannot keep them at bay much longer. Take the remaining soldiers and retreat, I’ll do what I can to buy you enough time to get away. With the entire regiment you should be able to make it through any remaining ambushes blocking your path”
“There be no way to make it outta here alive without help,” Rondrey protests, “I’ll not leave ye alone!”
Maybe this is the price I have to pay for not being able to protect Sylphine… death would almost be a warm welcome, a change from the persistent nightmare I have been plagued to live.
“There’s no time for debate, Rondrey,” Corrigan whispers, “I cannot lead them to certain death!”
Rondrey pauses, accepting that there is but one way to sway Corrigan’s decision, “Sacrificing yerself won’t change the past. Ye can save these people, Corrigan, and I’ll be damned if yer goin’ to give up so easily!”
A fresh wave of abominations and geists fills the courtyard as Corrigan hefts his hammer, the Light feeding him the strength to fight fiercely. Rondrey hefts his small mace and sends bolt after bolt of holy energy into the fray, healing those in need and burning the remaining flesh of the Scourge invaders.
Rage swells inside Corrigan as he crushes the bones of his enemies. Just as the battle appears to be turning in the favor of the Alliance forces the attackers pull back, making room for something coming forward from the back of their ranks. Corrigan’s eyes follow the hooded figure as it steps forward and becomes plainly visible.
Rondrey curses and Corrigan’s rage merely explodes as the hood falls, revealing the icy pale skin of a death knight. Corrigan feels Rondrey grab his arm and hold fast as he whispers, “Steady lad, ye cannot simply rush in against the creature and abandon our defenses!”
You control Corrigan’s fate!
If you choose to attack the death knight immediately Corrigan will charge, leading the rest of his men into a last ditch assault against their attackers. For this option go to Creeping… (Update, continuation link is here)
If you choose to hold the lines steady Corrigan will listen to Rondrey, hoping to outlast the assault and gain victory. For this option go to Hardcore Casual (Update, continuation link is here)
The story will continue on those blogs next Wednesday, April 22nd.
Direbrewfest
Argent Confessor
Kiss and Make Up (10 player)
Heroic: Trial of the Champion
