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Kafgar: The Monster Inside
The Monster Inside (Mild Gore warning)

A profound event had occurred to him, and it wasn't long until his world was being twisted and turned upside down, his soul being pushed through the meat grinder and strained into the frying pan. . .

What of honour?

It's the virtue that our lives are based on. Without it, there is nothing, only hate-- only destruction. Do you really want the demons to take that away from you and bring you into a bloodlust like they had to you before?

Do you want to be Mannoroth's slave once again?

Death is no excuse to destroy everything that could've been. Your undeath hadn't leaded you to happiness; ironically, it has led you to your grave.

What of honour?

Have you forgotten what you’ve fought for, what you lived for?

It's the virtue that our lives rely on. Without it, there is a void; death, fear and corruption. Do you really want the dead to take your pride, your dignity and your honour to destroy the very foundation of it all?

Do you want to be the Lich Kings slave once again?

Burning images of a thousand worlds being taken by the Legion. Their numbers are innumerable. They literally flood planets. All hope is lost. Even the Scourge could not stand a chance. Even Azeroth could not stand a chance. Even the Titans could not stand a chance. But Grom stood a chance. He took the chance and he ripped Mannoroth into two. He expunged the demon from Azeroth and brought honor, glory, freedom.

Our Warchief gave us something to live for.



He broke the chains, not only from the Blood Pact, but also from corruption itself.



He gave us the world to enjoy, to fight for, to prosper in.



Your people forgive you.


Your people understand.


Your friends still care.


She loved you and bore a son.






In a lightning moment, Kafgar’s axe swung into the helm of a felguard; his vibrant, jade blood rippled across the Death Knights body while he continued to hack into mound of demons. Felblood splashed in the direction of his might axe as they all piled up in a bath of emerald and a heap of corpses. The Death Knight let out an echoing battle cry as he fought a battle no one could win.

He let his giant, bloody fingers wrangle through the Night Elves flesh, the stringy muscles giving him little trouble as he began eviscerating at the remains. She screamed, her eyes rolling back as unspeakable pain spiked in the air, and her voice cracking and blood drooling down her cheek.

With the Paladin’s arm lopped off, he quickly dropped his sword and smacked his hand against the bloody stump which remained. He squealed in pain, blood spurting sporadically despite his attempt to hold the wound. To relieve the pain, he crunched as hard as he could on his tongue, his bodily fluids emulating hard from his mouth.

Kafgar finally suspended her throat to the ceiling of the building, nailing it properly to display her mutilated remains. Blood dripped from open wounds that were chunked from her body, but in general it was crustating nicely. Various exhibit’s of gore decorated the room, as vines of sinewy muscle trailed the room and words were painted with her bodily fluids.

He clawed at the wooden board as another nail slammed into his calf. His lower lip was already bloodied from biting down on it, and tears of pain roll down his cheek. He could feel the bugs, the rats crawling over his body as the giant Orc pulled out another nail and placed it on another pressure point.

Her warm blood sputtered irrepressibly, letting the bodily fluid fountain onto her oppressor. Kafgar dipped the stud of a severed limb into a bucket of salt water, letting the wound soak while she screeched at the top of her lungs.

Glimpses at a fraction of the atrocities he’s committed only made him more able to overcome the demons that tormented him. Moments that brought the immortal to his heights, and to infamy among the mortals.

But in time, he seemed to disappear.

Rumours have been circulating that Kafgar the Monster’s tomb lay somewhere in the abandoned town of Raven Hill. His terrors and plights are still whispered by those who’ve heard his name. Nightmares still remain an everlasting torment for those who have set their eyes on him. Whatever reward, other than awaking the terrible being, will be relinquished for discovering his grave, and whatever treasure (as a flexible term) is to be revealed on impact.
[Image: Calvin_and_Hobbes_hug_by_Humongous_E.png]
What's Cassius doing with a trio of Horde? Guess I'll stick around to keep an eye on him.

Looking for something...? What?

An orcish death knight? Plenty of those. Huh, the leader is one...irony.

Something isn't right...

Is that who they're looking for in the distance...? No, too thin to be an orc. Kal'dorei...? Light, I can feel the unholy off her...is that what I felt?

No. Incomplete.

We shouldn't be going in, this is foolish. Cassius, come on...

The smell. In the kitchen...

Broken bodies. On the walls, the floor...focus...

Below. There. So close...but where? What?

In the darkness of the basement, the Light from my staff illuminates the rust-hued writing on the walls.

Monster. Everywhere.

Why am I focused on the stairs? Something's wrong. Under them...? Nothing--what's that statue in the corn--...

Get back Cassius!

The new orc death knight--the Monster--...likes riddles? Anticlimactic. He awakens with a jolt from the kal'dorei.

A relatively quiet confrontation, the first that lead the search for him leaves. Some plan ruined.

Ugh, the Purge. Brutish bandits. Is this Monster their newest...? Disappointing.

Others join us. How did they find us down here...?--Fel! Felling templar is about to set the place on fire!

We're back upstairs, allowed to pass with the templar answering some riddle of the Monster's.

Who is that new human? Guns are out on the Monster...oh no...don't shoot him, you idiot!

A fight. At least we aren't just staring anymore--HAH. No death and decay for you. Light, I love the shields this staff 'makes'.

...How'd I get by the Monster?--Death Grip. Hate Death Grip.

Cassius! I'm fine! I can get out of this--hey, Monster's stunned. Let's see...convenient hole in his helmet. Armor doesn't reflect Light so much now with my hand in your face does it?

...Oh, good morning Monster, how--

Arm isn't supposed to bend like that. Ithurtsithurts. I'm smaller, I can get out fine.

See? I'm free! Somuchbloodmyblood. Where's my staff?Swingingmyarmabovehisheadlikeaflag. Sitting down now. Myarm.

...Sort of funny...new experience, yeah?


Rushing. Swooped up, out the door. Down the road, to grandmother's house we go. Don't tell me to Sssh, Cass.


Cassius kicks the door open like the knight he is--am I a damsel in distress?

On the floor. Hey, he can still use Light. No more bleeding, but the Light can't restore lost red. Or lost limbs.

"Hey, Cass...I...I need...need a hand...hah..."
[Image: tumblr_nfm4t0FZcT1rtcd58o1_r1_500.gif]

Lexine could not just leave it be. Whatever was haunting her the last few weeks needs to be put down.

This needs to stop.

She marched down the road, constantly on the lookout- Searching for something, anything that would be the presence that was following her. Nothing. But then she felt it. A presence, no, presences, all together in one spot. Powerful undead, too powerful for Raven Hill, which she was just passing by. It didn't take long for her to find the source. Death knights, several of them, were gathered in the basement of one of the old, decrepit taverns in Raven Hill. The kitchen above was littered with the corpses and gore of previous victims, and more than just human. It must have been one of the Knights. All of them sat in heavy, bulky armor, showing off how 'frightening' they were with the spikes and edges on it. Typical, insane abominations. And then there was that tingle. That odd feeling in her head. They were not simply armored, they were sporting Saronite armor.

Down there with them was... Cassius? Cassius was an ally. And then there was a girl, perhaps a priestess. The Knights were doing something. Arguing, discussing. Who knows. One of the knights grew agitated, and shattered one of the old barrels. Blood, organs, and gore spilled from it. Had they really murdered this many? Lexine was ready to fight. These Knights will not go unpunished.

A riddle he says? He'll leave if she answers it right? Highly doubtful, but yet, who said she was going to let him leave? She went along with it, and he used a riddle he had said not five minutes before. Something like 'ripped from the womb, beaten and burned.." something about killing.. She had forgotten at this point, but the answer was Saronite. She would have figured that out despite hearing the answer previously. Apparently Saronite came from.. Yogg'Saron? Some being, called an Old God. Beaten and burned implied it was beaten with something, a forging hammer, and burned, or forged. And it was used to kill by the Scourge.

Of course he and the rest of his group travel upstairs, and then they stop to simply chatter. She knew he wasn't going to leave, and simply wanted to annoy her. It worked. She lost her patience with them quickly, and simply doused them with the purging flames of her flamethrower. Ineffective. But they realized she meaned business. The fight went on, with little happening on either side, until the priestess was pulled in by the 'leader'. Lexine charged one of the beasts next to her with her rocketboots- To no avail. Somehow the hulking mass of undead Tauren managed to move out of the way, and she had to duck to dodge his attack. She flipped over due to shifting her weight oddly, and landed in some barrels and tables in the corner, demolishing them.

And then she heard it. The ripping of flesh and tendons, the breaking of bones. The sound of blood spraying onto the ground. She couldn't save that priestess. She was useless. So useless! 'Why couldn't I save her?!' She climbs to her feet, and her blade bursts to life with holy Fire. One of the Knights raise ghouls from the bodies of the slain in that building. Ghouls were nothing to Lexine. Weak, deteriorating constructs that would start decintigrating should they touch the relatively weak barrier of Light shielding her. And they did.

But those beasts would not escape her vengeance. She sacrificed her own health in order to save the priestess. She shielded the woman to protect her from the next attack. A slash of her sword, and the room was flooded with the burning holy flames of her blade. But the knights still stood.
Why do they stand?
Why won't they fall over and die again?

The flames now consuming the building scorched her armor, and burned her cape. Cassius escaped with the girl. Coward. Take her to safety, then return and aid us in the fight. This Knight of the Ebon Blade is helping one such as myself.
Why can't you? Why can't you come back, and atleast die, aiding your allies in combat? Do you fear death as such?
Lexine is engaged with the 'leader', the massive orc driving his axe into her shoulder. And just like that, it was almost entirely gimped. She could barely lift it, the muscles badly damaged. But he was close. So very close. She empowered her sword with lightning, so Holy, so devastating, and drove it into the creatures abdomen. The blast should've severed his body at the waist. It should've blown a hole in his abdomen. WHY WON'T YOU DIE?. Nothing. He paused for a moment, and threw her through the railing nearby. She was tired now. So tired. One of the Knights hadn't even taken a scratch. The others were thinking nothing of the damage caused to their bodies.

'Am I really this weak? I cannot save a single girl, and I cannot defeat any of these Knights.' She thought to herself. She couldnt've been this weak. The undamaged death knight stood near her, in the flames. Why isn't your flesh melting from your bones? Why won't these fires cleanse the blemish that you are from this world? Lexine blasted her with her flamethrower again, and she simply stood there, ablaze. Burn! BURN ALREADY!. The flames did nothing. She simply extinguished them.

'I will not leave this. I will not surrender. I will not fall to them. I will kill them, and prove I'm not some wea-'

They were leaving. Why were they leaving? Lexine steps forwards to follow after them, but she can't. Not quickly. She nearly falls over from her wounds. More carefully, she exits the burning tavern, dragging one of the people there with her. This man did not help at all. Useless. Why was she saving hi- No, she couldn't think like that. His life is not hers to judge the worth of. She was.. Weak.

"Why wouldn't they BURN?!"
How foul, I knew I had sensed a powerful taint, but I did not expect members of the Horde to be within. An orcish death knight and a Forsaken, both standing outside a door, searching for something or someone in particular. They didn't appear to be the source of this foul sensation however.

Annabelle, surprisingly marched to me on her horse. A surprise to see someone such as herself in these wretched lands...

I was almost ready to expect a sudden appearance of "The Purge", it appears I wasn't wrong at all. A chill went down my spine, similar to the one I had felt during the battle of Hillsbrad. It was the witch I had heard so much about yet seen so little of.

We marched within an abandoned tavern in Raven Hill. My grip tighter than before and my guard readier than ever. I knew something would occur and I wasn't wrong. We went towards the Kitchen, the accursed smell of death and blood flooding the area. It was disgusting, but I kept my guard, especially to the elvish death knight behind me.

Annabelle walked towards a corner with a statue of what appeared to be...an orc? I was busy analyzing some of the writings several humans had previously written with their own blood, a sickening sight indeed. Annabelle walked back and I walked towards the little gap where she was standing. The statue rose, it was the orcish -Monster- that people had been searching for all along.

Everything then happened so quickly... Annabelle pulled me back and I couldn't help but chuckle as I saw Kraine walking down the stairs. It truly was a reunion of heresy, a surprise this "Lady Sangreala" Calin spoke about wasn't there with them.

The Templar, Lexine was it? She appeared along with her...strange device... By the Light, if she used the device upon those death knights it would save me plenty of trouble. A pity it was to no ado...

Minutes later we all found ourselves back to the main floor and gunfire was shot upon the orcish -Monster-. They struck the man and I decided to intervene. Bursting out holy energy towards Kraine's back as he was distracted, Light bless Ashaila and of course, Solomon's Tome for the atonement.

I felt...arrogance was it? No, it was pure confidence, I had the power to destroy these cretins. The orcish death knight used his unholy abilities to pull Annabelle towards him. I intervened and rapidly made the orc fall into a trance of meditation. Annabelle, young and stubborn... She strikes the monster, awakening him from his temporary disability. The monster tore her arm off without mercy or second thoughts. I would have done something but the witch had risen ghouls against us. I had to think quickly, these fools are too stubborn to drop and Lexine's flames would consume us all!

This is where I performed a most dishonorable act, holy wrath quickly spread to those around me, fiery explosion arising towards my direction due to Lexine's impulsive attack. It would not be the unholy ones which would kill me and Annabelle, but her own device. I quickly picked up Annabelle while the wicked knights were occupied with the fiery flames and the holy bolts swam over them. I did not want Annabelle to be an unfortunate casualty, I owe her my life for what she has done.

I stormed out with her, my heart pounding ferociously. I took her to an abandoned house deep within the woods. She fell unconscious rapidly and I felt tired, so terribly tired... I had still not gotten used to using the Light once more and I had only just fully recuperated a week ago.

I tried healing her arm, preventing the bleeding... I was to worn out to do much but I managed to fully stop the bleeding. I glanced at the door and was planning to head back towards the location where the battle was taking place...

Light forgive me... I landed on my back and my own consciousness was quickly fading... I would have returned to assist the Templar and the other knight but...I am no fool... My body has reached its limit and still hasn't fully recovered from the trauma of resurrection. My body still hasn't readjusted itself to using the Light...but...

I will not allow myself to die in vain, again.
A peculiar event took place in Duskwood tonight.

I usually go there… It is where I find fresh mangoes, or where it is empty. Eventually, there are bandits I can use to feed myself. Sometimes, there will be a traitor, a rogue from the Ebon Blade, it is my duty to help defeat it…

… Not tonight… There were five of them…

Don’t misunderstand my words, my journal…

Five? Sounds like a good challenge… Maybe an interesting way to go down... Maybe they would remember me as the knight that defeated five traitors alone? Maybe they would… But maybe not, after a while, I stopped taking certain chances on sake of pride…

Pride… It has been a while since I wrote this word, wasn’t it, my journal…?

Anyway… Five death knights… And like the young priestess said, all dressed for Hallow’s End… Perhaps not the largest two. I could see the Saronite covering their bodies…

… Foolish. This would hardly stop me from removing their spines if so I wanted… I saw things in that dungeon. Bodies, blood… Perhaps I would have enjoyed it, hadn’t I knew the bodies there were of innocent people…

Don’t get me wrong, my journal… I enjoy killing… But there are some who are worthy killing, and some who are not…

Five Rogues… And a few other people… Living. One was a bald, dark-clad man… Felt imposing, I knew it wasn’t the kind of man that wouldn’t go down without a hard fight… And the armored lady… Her hair was very much like mine, maybe a little lighter but… That’s not the point here. She felt strong too… Templar. She said. And there was a last one… A priestess, I could tell, even so, a brave one, if I can compare to other priests I have met in the past…

Words were traded. Threats, mostly. I busied myself with guarding the stairs for a while… The fifth knight was there after all, and so was a man I did not know, seemed of little importance. The fancy group of traitors moved upstairs and apparently just stood there, talking casually…

Don’t get me wrong, my journal… I know about plotting, about planning, about talking… But certainly, you do not stop in a room to talk casually, or about your plans, not when you are in the same building as people that can potentially kill you… Or spread those plans… Either way, it would work.

Definitely, these rogues were losing their touch… Sometimes I have a feeling that only us, of the Ebon, still know how to serve our purpose… Talking, threatening. All meaningless, most of time. The time lost talking and threatening could be best employed to slaughter your enemy, without giving it time to prepare… Yes… It’s an interesting concept, maybe we should talk about it, someday?

I deviate from the topic… We engaged the traitors… Yes, as an agent of the Blade, it was my duty to side with the paladins to defeat the rogues… I had a feeling ‘friendly fire’ would be very much used in this battle, and I my feelings did not betray me… Of course they didn’t. There were enough targets for me to pick… I went for the Kal’dorei first… Don’t get me wrong, my journal, I had my reason. The treehuggers are ungrateful, and that one… Well, she was in a better position. Be aware I wield a spear, my journal. It’s a long, deadly weapon, but requires room. Room I did not have to attack the others…

Either she was faking, or the Kal’dorei was very good at absorbing wounds… During the whole battle, she hardly showed any signs of being hurt at all… Rogues, sometimes I wonder how they don’t crack under a strong breeze… The largest of those traitors turned to me, it was a large tauren… Large, as in… I recall meeting tall men. He was twice their size, and likely thrice their weight…

Amusing. You know me, my journal… Perhaps someone lesser would be afraid… But have you ever tried chasing a cat? I did… I was surprised on how difficult it was to catch it. Only this time, I was the cat, and… Well, a slightly dangerous cat…

I still recall the feeling upon my fingers… I wounded the Tauren, a few times, one slash upon his throat brought my most creative side to bear… His blood rained upon the room. Rotten, sadly, but still blood… I tightened my fingers around his throat… Did you ever grab the weak leg of a chair, my journal…? No, you did not, you have no hands… But it’s an amusing feeling. You know that one pull will bring the whole structure of the furniture down… It was not very different with the Tauren…

I like the living… I love the living in fact, especially those I hate… Bandits, I hunt them for a reason… They scream, they beg, they piss themselves. It’s amusing… Their fear is almost palpable… It’s a good feeling, to know that you can erase their pitiful existence in one strike…

I giggle as I write this, my journal. It’s almost sexually arousing to know my brothers and sisters, undead, presumably immortal, can also have their existences denied so easily… I just needed one pull. Maybe two… I would have broken that throat, he would fall, his nerves unable to hold his massive weight… Then I would remind him why you usually do not betray the Ebon Blade…

Don’t get me wrong, my journal… I’m not as gentle and kind as everyone thinks… I can be a monster, sometimes… I –want- to be a monster, sometimes… But if I compare myself to certain brothers that have not betrayed the Blade, well… I’m merely a pup…

Sometimes I wonder how desperate those rogues get when they meet our most dangerous agents… I would pay to see this…

… I changed the topic, -again-…

We ended up in a draw… Sort of… The bald knight had to retreat, I presume the priestess condition was dire. If he did not leave, she could have died. So… It was me and the Templar, against three of the Rogues… I could have killed one, maybe two… The Templar? With the much Light she had shown there, she could have killed them all, and me included, if she choose to…


If she wasn’t so exhausted, of course…

We all left the scene and I assisted the Templar in returning to Stormwind. We parted ways at the entrance, and I came back home, to write on you, my journal…


I forgot to ask her name… Typical…

Good night, my journal…

"We will find another... Darkor..."
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