Tiny droplets of rain tore through the damp, foggy evening. Clouds thick and dull, trapping the land under a hazy blanket. Lush grassy land fell apart at the first footstep.
A rhythmic squelching sluggishly oozed into the ears of all around. The march continued, squelch...squelch...squelch, and then it stopped. Rain alone persisted in its sharp, whistling.
Shakily, a voice inquired, “Why are we sto..” before being interrupted by a hasty “Ssh!”
Faintly an uneven creaking slipped through the cover of fog. This persisted for a few moments before ceasing.
“We’re being watched!” one of the Quel’Dorei whispered.
Another slowly slid his blade out from inside its sheath.
Claw, foot and wheel all tore through the saturated ground accompanied by bloodcurdling howls.
In mere seconds shambling, shuffling and lurching silhouettes began to come into sight. First just a few, ghouls and zombies, but more and more kept advancing, skeletons giving way to crypt fiends and abominations.
“Fall back! We can’t handle this many of the scum alone!” Yelled one of the elves.
Terrible screeching hammered at the eardrums of the elves as gargoyles swept by overhead.
Three of the beasts flew down from behind, one quickly snatched its prey and pulled it upwards into the sky.
Another landed on top of its victim and began to tear into their flesh, pulling limbs off as if they were paper.
The third, eager to join its brethren in bloodshed, gripped onto another elf, dragging him through the mud, slowly lifting him into the air.
Wriggling and writhing, the assaulted elf quickly pulled a dagger from his side and thrust it deep into the shin of the gargoyle, it shrieked ear-splittingly but persisted in its task. Again and again the elf thrust his blade into the leg of his foe, finally the gargoyle, its leg filled with holes and ruined, dropped its prey.
Falling from the sky, the elf turned and hit the ground with a sickening crunch, howling out in pain as both his legs shattered, odd shards of bone pierced their way through the skin, spurting blood like crimson fountains.
Crawling slowly through the mud, not yet resigned to his fate, he called out feebly to his allies.
“No! It’s too late for him, come on!” the voice of his commander sounded, not so far away.
Anger gripped the elf for a moment before foul odours clogged up his nose, clinking and large wet footsteps grew closer and closer.
He turned his head and saw a terrible creature, an abomination. In a clumsy movement, the wounded elf grabbed at a shattered blade, laying nearby, holding it against the undead monstrosity weakly.
“That not save you, you stupid!” the abomination forced out from its rotten gob as it lifted its great foot and kicked the sword away. It laughed brutishly and swung its meathook, catching the elf on the side of his head.
A groan filled the rusty cell. Sharp pain flickered across the head of the elf, he forced open his eyes wearily. The stench was unbearable! Vomit and blood plastered the legs of the now-captive elf.
Many bones and the occasional severed limb littered the dirty floor. The only light that came into the cell was a sickly shade of green, lazily pouring through the bars, illuminating the other occupant of the rancid cell.
In the corner lay a whimpering Dwarf, his body covered in filthy rags, covered with stitches and scabs.
“Awake! But ye soon regret it, the doctor will take you!” he cackled, the terror in his voice disturbing and horrifying.
“Doctor? What are you…?” the elf questioned, trying to ignore the pain from his broken legs.
The dwarf squealed into his palm and then answered.
“Mad, absolutely insane she be! Shaved off my beard and stuck it to the abomination!”
“This “doctor” sounds more childish than anything else…” the other occupant of the cage replied bluntly, beginning to think the dwarf is most probably the insane one.
“You´ll see for yerself, laddy.. she takes everyone, and I ain´t never seen any come back.” the Dwarf stated, while grimacing.
Footsteps pattered along the hallway outside the cell.
The dwarf began to sob into his hands, as the door creaked open, revealing a huge orc, clad in a linen shirt and baggy trousers, his head covered by banner with a skull and crossbones displayed on it.
He lurched into the cell, forcefully grabbed the elf by the neck and hurled him onto his shoulder.
The orc dragged the captive through a series of simarly decrepit corridors before reaching a circular room with a mouldy looking chair in its center.
The walls of the room were covered in desks and shelves, on them organs in jars, bloodied tools and limbs lay. A rotting oaken double door stood at one end.
The elf was tied into the chair by his captor, who then took up position on behind the chair.
“The doctor will be here for you soon...” he said solemnly and nodded.
“Why are you dressed like…?” The captive tried to turn his head to see the huge orc.
The orc cut him off with a grunt and then replied quietly while tapping his finger against his own forehead.
“The doctor pays me well...”
Suddenly the door slammed open, a blue abomination wearing a pirate´s hat and as the dwarf had said, it had a badly stuck on beard barged in.
“Arr, the doctor be in!”
The captive peered at the abomination but saw no doctor.
“That’s my line you great brute!” a squeaky voice piped in.
The elf looked down and saw a little gnome lady with green pigtails. She wore a dirty apron covered with blood stains and a pair of goggles on her forehead.
After a moment of shocked staring, he managed to stifle a laugh.
“I expected the Scourge to be cold, ruthless killers, not crazy gnomes pretending to be pirates.”
He couldn´t help it, but the thought of dying seemed as absurd as everything else in this dungeon.
The gnome ignored this and commanded.
“Now, Captain Cadaver! Fetch the bone saw!”
The abomination replied with an “Aye aye!” then lumbered over to a desk and picked up a cruel looking saw.
“But doctor, surely a simple knife would work better for this?” the orc questioned.
“Silence First Mate Oarc, this is my ship, and if you disagree with my rules, I keelhaul ya!”
The orc grumbled and murmured something about bad puns.
The gnome picked up the bone saw with ease, despite it being almost as big as her and hefted it towards the elf’s leg.
“Don’t worry, this’ll all be over before an abomination can count to ten.” She chuckled.
The saw sliced through the back of the elf’s leg and began to tear into the flesh, blood spurting out in every direction.
The captive screamed in agony as the teeth of the saw sliced through his shin.
Gnomish fingers reached into the hole and pulled out loose fragments of bone and chunks of meat.
“This landlubber is all messed up inside! Our crew must have knocked him about pretty bad!” she squeaked excitedly.
Stubby little fingers prodded and poked around inside the wound, tweaking and twiddling with vein and bone.
Cries of agony choked the atmosphere as the elf shook in pain.
“Knife,” the doctor bluntly uttered.
Captain Cadaver handed a serrated dagger covered in rusty stains to the gnome. She grasped the knife in her right hand and hoped onto the elf’s knees.
“This ought to keep you docile for a while.”
The blade sliced awkwardly from just below the neck all the way to the lower part of the torso.
The prisoner began to gurgle and blood dribbled from his open mouth, sliding down into the huge wound on his chest. After a few moments the gurgling stopped, the doctor let out a sigh of disappointment.
Silence, interrupted only by the sound of blood dripping, causing ripples in the steadily growing puddle on the floor.
Saws, knives, chisels, and little fingers, all tore at the corpse, tearing apart flesh and bone, rearranging them like a gruesome jigsaw puzzle.
Stitches and fire refused the torn flesh, leaving a horribly disfigured body.
The orc strode over to the chair at the gnome’s request and muttered an incantation. The captive´s body twitched madly then went still, as he slowly opened his eyes, only to be butchered by the doctor again, who rearranged his limbs and organs.
Days passed, each more bloody than the last, sawing, screaming and slicing all commonplace.
The elf was reanimated and tortured until he died, this process was repeated over and over.
“This is getting boring!” the doctor said, annoyed, to nobody in particular.
“He doesn’t scream anymore, no matter how much I chop him up!” She frowned towards the captive.
Though still bound to the chair, the elf didn´t struggle anymore. The expression on his face could be described as relaxed, his eyes content and void of any kind of emotion.
A quiet, sly voice sounded from the doorway. “And precisely that was the point of this...experiment, doctor.”
The gnome paused, turning to the door.
A figure slid silently into the room, clad in a dark, tattered robe. A jagged purple strip down the centre of both the front and back, a beige band lining the bottom and hood, both marked with images of skulls, as common for the Cult of the Damned.
The acolyte inclined his head politely and whispered loudly.
“Greetings doctor, I see you have finished your task. I hope, for your sake, that this one will finally be a success, or you might find yourself in that chair next.”
Not bothering to wait for a reply he moved over to the chair and inspected the body.
“Yes, this will do. Infact… this if perfect.”
The hooded man grinned and began to undo the chains binding the captive.
“Hey! What are you doing…?” The gnome squeaked with slight panic in her voice. “I can´t control the thing yet and..”
Again she was cut off by the acolyte.
“Now elf, why don’t you come and thank the doctor for her selfless work?” he prompted with a gentle chuckle.
The elf stood up slowly, knees shaking from all the days he sat bound. He peered at the gnome, dragging himself along the wall, taking baby steps towards her.
She glanced at the hooded man with anger and fear, yelling at the top of her lungs.
“What are you doing?! You can´t be serious!”
The undead elf, completely stained with gore, ignored this and kept advancing towards the gnome.
“I warn you! I’ve got considerab… eep!” the doctor flailed madly, trying to get away from her own creation as he lifted her up by the neck, sharp, claw-like nails digging into the skin.
SNAP!
The doctor´s neck broke in a single movement and the body was cast aside.
A dreadful cackle later, the acolyte drifted towards the elf.
“Are you ready to serve your Master, to serve Ner’Zhul, the Lich King?” he questioned, knowing what the answer would be.
The elf turned his head towards the acolyte, towering a good head above him. He flexed his shoulders and neck with a loud cracking sound, trying to get rid of the stiffness, then nodded once.
The hooded figure smirked with satisfaction.
“You shall, you shall be one of the finest of your kind, Death Knight.”
The elf staggered backwards as a voice whispered faintly, filling every inch of his consciousness.
“Prepare to serve your master... Amedeh. Your will… is not your own!”
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dallas
12. 11.novembra 2010 17:38
Priznám sa, že som to neprečítala celé, pretože predpokladám, že WOW znamená World of Warcraft a to ma nebaví, ale musím sa vyjadriť k úrovni angličtiny, akou je to napísané a ak si to napísala sama (thumbs up) (thumbs up) (thumbs up)
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@dallas : Nebolo by odomna pekne, keby som cudzie clanky uverejnovala ako svoje, ci...?
Pisala som to ako pozadie jednej z mojich postav, jak zemrel a tak. Povodne to bolo pisane pre ludi, z ktorymi hram, co su vlastne vsetci anglicky hovoriaci
A anglinou sa planujem zivit, vlastne sa uz aj ciastocne zivim, cize by bolo zle keby som nevedela povedat ani p anglicky
Pisala som to ako pozadie jednej z mojich postav, jak zemrel a tak. Povodne to bolo pisane pre ludi, z ktorymi hram, co su vlastne vsetci anglicky hovoriaci
A anglinou sa planujem zivit, vlastne sa uz aj ciastocne zivim, cize by bolo zle keby som nevedela povedat ani p anglicky
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