However, my newfound strengh of will was shortlived. As I wondered through the Tirisfal glades, staring aimlessly at the Dark, sinister trees, my fast pace faded. "What was I thinking? Humans and undead are lifelong enemies; I should give up on this endevour and forget it. "
I turned around, prepared to walk back to deathknell. Then I suddenly remembered the Shadow priest, Sarvis. Her face bore an ill concealed expression of frustration. She was smiling when she congratulated me with my victory, (for even undeads can imitate the facial expressions of humans, however feebly) but her smile was false. I had not paid heed to this omen at the time, for my joy at the newfound financial resources had been too great. Now however, I regarded the whole incident with deep suspicion.
"She wanted to get rid of me" I thought to myself, frowning as I continued standing. My inner struggle was great; on one hand, there was the debt to my newfound kinsmen, the Forsaken. On the other hand, there was my personal security. Instincts always prevail; I turned around again hesitantly, and resumed my previous journey.
I still had very little knowledge as to my whereabouts, but some inner gut feeling unconsciously urged me on. As the hours passed, the landscaped changed from the occasional half rotten tree to a dense forest of dark pines. Every single color darkened. And it wasnt just that the sun was completing its usual daily cycle, dying to come back in the morning reincarnate. No, the very roots of the trees, the very air I breathed was tainted. This taint did not bother me greatly, for I myself was tainted, cursed to be frozen between the realm of the living and the dead, but it was so ominous that even I, a horrible monster in the eyes of all except myself, was afraid. In the darkness,
I could hear the low pitched growls of darkhounds. They would not be able to eat me, for in some ways they were my kin, like me, the dead come alive. That did not prevent them from eyeing my bag with supplies greedily. They were waiting for the dark, when their strength was at its peak, to attack me.
I was almost relieved when the Fortress of Lordareon came into view. Almost.
The initial joy of seeing my homeland was shattered by the realisation that it was no more; the Fortress was in ruins. The gleaming white walls, The shining towers, everything was gone. What had once been a relic, a myth a legend, was now but a pale shadow of its former glory, a sad reminder to all of the former strength of the Alliance.
I entered the courtyard, my eyes wandering sadly. I took it all in; the crumbling grey walls that were once pristinely clean, crafted by the finest human mages, the thick coat of slime that adorned everything, the rotten, acrid bushes that had ones been the eighth wonder of all gardens.
I sank onto my knees and cried.
"WHY!!!!!!?
"
My low pitched scream carried across all of the Fortress, but I was not afraid. This fortress was home to beetles and worms. It was no more.
"At least I am safe here for tonight" - I said to myself as I crossed the bridge, entereing the courtyard to search for a suitable hideout for the night. I walked into the main hall, sadly gazing at the statue of King Terenas.
Although we undead were much more than any ordinary human, the horror and sadness of the Fortress had exhausted me. I unpacked my few belongings and laid down at the foot of the statue.
Sleep did not come.
I layed on the floor for eternity, lost in thoughts. Time had stopped; there is no time for the dead. Time is a clock, ticking away your life, moving from the beginning to the end. For the Forsaken, time was but a nuisance. I had all the time in the world. My eyes drifted without purpose, examining my surroundings out of a twisted sense of curiousity. There was a thick coat of grime and goo. The Fortress had been built from the magic of the Elves and the stonmasons of the humans. Both elements had shattered: The stones were crumbling, and the magic was fading, hence the slime, a remnant of magic.
The fortress was dying.
The paintings of the wall, once shrines to the famous paladins of the old, were torn and gnarled, never to be restored again. Even the statue, once of solid gold, was covered with grime and half destroyed. "Plunderers no doubt" - I whispered bitterly. The one symbol of civilisation, the one shrine to Human distinction that could last (for the gold was enchanted to resist errosion) had been violated, ripped apart. A tear ran down my cheek, and I stifled a sob.
I could take it no more.
My heart trembled with guilt, for it had been my race that had thus wreaked havoc and chaos upon this perfection. It had been the scourge, not the Forsaken, who had destroyed Lordareon, but in my eyes that was a feeble excuse.
I got up and packed my things. About to leave, my eyes fell again upon the Statue. I kneeled down, my knees resting upon the cold, stiff floor, and put my hands together in prayer.
"Forgive me Holy Light, for I have sinned. I repent for all I have commited since my conversion. I have killed without reason, destroying by order, with no distinction for good and bad. I have sold my conscience for a bag of gold. Forgive me Father, and give me strength to withstand that which is descending upon me. Help me in my struggle, for I bear the heavy burden of guilt. Cleanse my soul, help me withstand the corruption that is taking over me.
Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est
Congregavit nos in unum Christiamor
Exusultemus et in ipso iucundemur
Timeamus et amemus Deum vivum
Et excorde diligamus nos sincero
Ubi caritas est vera Deus ibi estWhen I regained awareness of my surroundings, bringing and end to my chant, it was already morning. Nothing had changed; The grim still coated the floor and walls, the Ruins still brought sadness unto my heart, but now I had the inner strength of mind to face this torment. My prayer had brought calm and readiness upon me. I was ready to face what destiny had in store for me.
I was prepared.
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