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Dim...
My arms are shackled, my legs are snapped, the room is dimly lit and unbearably cold. My stomach is growling, my mouth is dry, my upper body is shivering due to the spreading pain and cold. I can feel the very wounds inflicted upon me drying up or being infected. A massive headache emerging upon my very skull.
Light, I would die to feel the sensation of a wet cloth being laid upon my forehead, to feel the very texture of a simple loaf of bread in my mouth along with a nice fresh cup of water being slowly poured down into my sore and dry throat.
I fall unconscious every hour only to wake up due to hearing the simplest of sounds, from footsteps to simply the subtle whisper of the wind.
I did not dare fight back or call for help against these displeased Forsaken. I don't know why, perhaps it is a way to show my devotion to the Light? Regardless of the reason, there is no way out of this fate.
These several months, have altered my perspectives heavily, those that I have once knew in the past would be devastated at my recent acts. Ashaila, Autumn, Thanara, Annabelle, Azure and even Riel would be shocked at these turn of events. The Church would pity me and those which disapproved of me would find amusement at my condition: Zalthiel, Kraine, Calin, all of these very heathens I had dealt with in the past.
Ser Hameron Delanoy, those damn undead fiends killed him. If only the overly proud crusader had obeyed my orders to settle down at first... Then perhaps he still would have been alive and I wouldn't be in this hideous condition.
He was unfortunately, one of the last belonging to the Tumultus Inquistion....
The Tumultus Inquisition
Oddly enough it was founded within the proximity of Duskwood and Stranglethorn Vale, one of the first few members was a blood elf known as "Riel Firewell". I couldn't decipher whether he was a man of faith at first or simply a man of ambition.
But during the start of the Inquisition, a conflict had stirred between me and this blood elf magister, "Doctor Lynn Dawnwing" was it? I remember how arrogant she was and how she denounced my words of truth in the Guruubashi Arena. A shameful display she as I revealed how inferior she was during a brief arena battle or "duel to the death" as she called it. A pity she couldn't back up her words physically and even verbally, she needed her friends to crawl her out of the arena.
Unfortunately, my words were hideously misunderstood by these simple pagans and therefore had spread amongst a crew of "White Knights". A representative of the famous Argent Crusade, Dalikan Godford, a supposed templar and a draenei vindicator confronted me and accused me of "crimes" against Azeroth. It astonished me how they decided to confront me when there were most problems to be dealt with around the entire globe.
They wanted me to be arrested, but instead I obliged to duel one of theirs for my very freedom. Dalikan agreed, telling the vindicator to fight me in the arena. She was quickly defeated and knowing Godford, he would have probably tried to find another excuse to confront me again.
Riel had provoked the Argent templar to confront us once more, causing another duel within the arena. Light, Riel seemed more like a mindless gladiator than a follower of the Light. However, we had both defeated the templar and his blood elf ally, "Bone" was the elf's name if I recall.
I heard the sound of footsteps nearby the hallway, it appears to be a small gathering of the very Forsakens who took me away.
Disgusting, I can smell their strong scent of decay from here.
The Purge
If there is anything more reminiscing about the smell of corpses near the room I am trapped in, it is the Purge.
Our first encounter with the Purge was within Westfall, a band of death knights terrorizing the very residents of the area. They had confronted us, three death knights led by a tauren known as "Kraine". A thickheaded dog that heathen was, only ending up embarrassing himself by withdrawing the very battle he commenced. I recall the very sounds of searing flesh as our exorcisms penetrated that foul beast's hide. Unfortunately we had lost one of our own, Chaersus Dentius, Light guide his soul.
The Purge was encountered a few more times, mostly between Riel and Kraine. I should've simply allowed Riel to be disposed of and finish off Kraine myself. Shameful that it never occurred. Instead Riel had become more and more disloyal, promoting heresy and tempting to abandon his faith. I exiled him, and was apparently convinced to support the Purge? Light, what poison had this man drank? It must have been the constant conflicts with Kraine that possessed this weak minded blood elf.
What was most disturbing was when I had heard that Riel married this arathorian mercenary working for the Tumultus Inquisition named Calin Ursus. A secret marriage I believe, one which I never understood and Light hope I never do. The both of them followed the route of darkness and unrighteousness. Fortunately, Riel ended up being murdered by a group of nobles in Alterac which he had angered.
These turn of events only made Calin unstable and lost, causing the poor soul to submit to heresy and blinded lust.
The scent of decay only got stronger in the room as I began to hear the very footsteps of the undead and their unfamiliar tongue.
I couldn't tell if they were capable of knowing whether I was conscious or not, however one of the undead "clerics" went down on his knees and looked down at my masked face. His hands had a presence of some form of thread of shadow emerging. He used the thread onto my fresh wounds on my very torso, the pain I had to endure was immense, a sensation I cannot describe by simple words.
My throat was sore and dry but I still released a messy scream as the forsaken performed his torturous procedure, seeing his sickeningly entertained face at my painful reactions. There was another forsaken with him however, she was pinning me down on the wooden floor as she had a disturbed look at the pain I was enduring.
This only lasted for several, long and painful minutes. They even managed to heal my very legs, although the process was gruesome and in vain when the death knight with them jammed the pointed end of Hameron's halberd into my kneecap. They wrapped a cloth around my face and...
...I fell unconscious once more.
Hillsbrad Foothills
My deep sleep reminded me of the day I once was slain in the battlefield. The very day we heard of the unsubtle rumors of the Purge plotting in sacking a village in Hillsbrad, I felt uneasy, uncomfortable at the odds which were thrown against me. Me and Dalikan, ironically formed a minor alliance and gathered up, with the help of a member of the Ebon Blade, a small group of mercenaries and death knights to counter-attack against the ravaging heathens in the green and pastoral lands.
We all rode to where the foul acts were being committed and encountered the Purge and its lowly followers. Most importantly, I encountered Calin Ursus once more, the woman's pale visage staring at me with a sadistic look. She wanted someone to suffer for her husband's demise, and she wanted to inflict pain upon me.
Death...
My bitter demise came during this quick fight. Due to my lack of faith, during the middle of fight I lost utter focus and got cocky. The woman rolled out of my strike and impaled the back of my knees with her cold, rusty blades. I could not stand any longer, my knees reached the ground and she pressed her very body against my back.
This part, I remember by heart.
She pressed her bloody knife against my neck and slid the rusty blade viciously. I felt the blood racing down my neck, my own lungs failing, and every sensations in my body becoming numb. The rogue tilted my head towards hers, a grin emerged on her visage and she pressed her lips against mine almost as if she was endorsing my death.
It was a very disturbing experience. Autumn who fortunately was in the battle took my body to Ashaila's custody, an inquisitor I knew back in Scarlet Crusade. She took my body and took care of it. She had a desire to bring me back from the afterlife, a place I can hardly recall.
Ashaila and Annabelle Greene, a curious priestess which I had met in Ratchet long before the battle, merged both of their Light energies within them to merge my body with my soul as it once was.
It worked, but the shock, the trauma of death itself can render a man nearly insane. I was ill for more than a week, feeling my head scream in pain and my stomach ready to release a fair amount of stomach acid from my mouth.
On that day however, I had made an oath to never rise back from the dead ever again.
A crackling strike of shadow smacked against my body, a terrible, stinging sensation emerged from my body as I awoke, yelping out loud and gasping for air.
I glanced at the tall, dark and hooded figure above me. A death knight, one who reeks of death and blood, a night elf to be specific.
It was Zalthiel...
Light, I was afraid that this was going to occur. Zalthiel was the one in who was controlling the Purge behind the scenes. She stared over me, and a small bit of foul black liquid dripping down from her face onto mine, perhaps grinning under the shadows within her hood.
The smell of rot around her body is one of the most foulest and repulsive of smells my nostrils have ever endured. Her sudden presence however brought a cold chill down my spine.
I gave the undead elf no reason as to why I was here, questioning her instead, eventually figuring out that she worked with the Forsakens who caught me. I had to lower myself to the point where I begged for water and food. Of course, Zalthiel didn't care a bit about my misery, probably taking amusement of it anyhow.
Light, why did I beg to this death knight? How low have I become?
Zalthiel and I had personally met in Stranglethorn Vale months ago. The death knight had decided to stalk me in the jungle as I left the arena, probably taking an interest in me in a very disturbing and sickening fashion.
I knew however she was the "true" leader of the Purge, it was logical by the ways her pet dog Kraine followed her around like a dog following his master.
I told Zalthiel to leave, as my nerves could not stand her stench, she left almost without care but I knew she'd be back at some point...
Zalthiel's foul scent reminded me of the reeking smell of rotten flesh, baking under the boiling sun of Tanaris...
Beaufort Bay
I recall visiting a festival in the settlement of Beaufort Bay with my daughter, Azure. It had been awhile since I had come in contact with her, after we had reunited once more in Darkshire. During the small festivities I encountered Annabelle by coincidence, she was surprised at learning of me having a daughter.
There was a death knight, amongst the crowd which disturbed me, Epsilon as she so called herself. Offensive, sickening, repulsive. Light, there are many unholy curses I can smite upon this heathen, she makes my stomach burn in anger.
There was an outbreak throughout the festivities, people being ill and having parasites infecting their very mind, causing them to follow their speaker blindly. Azure was desperate in trying to help those who were unfortunate during the events, I had properly acquainted myself with a troll known as Ul'wey who appeared to be understanding of my situation.
During the events which occurred that week, we had fought constantly against some of infected residents of the Bay, but what irritated me was that vile death knight, Epsilon, she was willing to suck the life energy out of a corpse. Desecration it was. I retaliated and prevented her from doing so, instigating a fight between me and her.
Those around us were getting irritated at how we were ignoring the real issue. However, there were other conflicts between the group going on outside of the gates of the settlement. A group of nobles from Alterac and an orcish warlock fighting against each other until goblins put a halt to it. Me and the death knight stopped, and I was too worn out and wounded to fight. I needed my armor and mace for such a situation.
Throughout the week Epsilon decided to try and make me "suffer" as she so claimed in a fight. Pity it only ended with her suffering the bitter taste of defeat. Ul'wey approved of my acts that day but Annabelle was disappointed that I preferred focusing on Epsilon rather than the real problem.
By the love of the Light, there was something awfully strange of Annabelle during that week. I felt that she almost knew all of the answers to the mysteries which had occurred a bit too well, maybe she was simply being clever in general, but something about her made me feel ill. Perhaps it was simply the fact that I found out that her "lover" was a blood elf mage.
There is nothing I despise and fear more than the usage of arcane magic. The very thought of it makes the pain in my knee to be almost nonexistent.
My thoughts were interrupted as Zalthiel decided to reenter the room, her foul stench returning to plague the very room I am trapped in.
She was offering a proposition to end my pain. Trying to convert me into a lowly minion of hers. No matter how much effort this death knight tried to corrupt me, I relented.
No matter what situation I am put up against, my faith shall remain with the Light...
The Forsakens had finally found the ones who were about to pay for my release, I assumed it was Tavren himself who was willing to ransom me out of these restraints and this torment.
House Blackstone
There is nothing more questioning than my sudden allegiance with the supposed Blackstone family, but the first time I had truly heard of them was from the arathorian, Doyle Lynch. Doyle had spoken to me one afternoon in Stormwind about him willing to hunt down a man known as Tavren Black, a noble who had inherited his title and Lordship of the noble House Blackstone through marrying Morgan Blackstone, sister of Aroes Blackstone. Their marriage eventually led with Aroes, the Lord of House Blackstone, being exiled from his very own noble house, according to Doyle.
My first encounter with Tavren Black was in Beaufort Bay, him being one of the heathens stirring up conflict during the dreadful disaster. We had properly introduced ourselves in Goldshire, where he had depicted an interest in placing me as one of his knights within his House. His ideals were mainly ambition, but we both had the same enemy, the Burning Legion, and my duties were to make sure none would inflict harm within the House or even let their foul magic to control them instead. Some would wonder why the Light hadn't left me at this moment, but that is because my faith remained with the Light and not through the heresy which was around me. I did not dwell within their foul sorcery, instead I was but a watchmen, watching those within the House, assuring them that any errors can result in swift judgement.
An interesting armor made out of thorium was given to me for my duties, along with an enchanted mask allowing myself to see invisible entities in my field of vision. It was quite remarkable but also most cumbersome, especially with that thorium maul I was equipped with.
A key moment within House Blackstone would have been when we had encountered the infamous felsworn, Sangreala. I cannot forget the sight of those awful wings and disgusting mutations this elf had succumbed to. That blasted heathen would have had her unholy bosom crushed by my thorium maul if she hadn't run away from our encounter.
The trip was long and sickening, my empty stomach growled in hunger and my head pulsated intensively at this time consuming trip. They removed my shackles and somehow already knew of my name, I assumed immediately that someone from House Blackstone had already contacted them.
The leader of the group of forsakens darkly smiled at a dark silhouette which was calmly walking towards us. The leader opened his mouth with grim enthusiasm at the figure.
"Huh. Wasn't expecting to see you here, Tavelli."
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