Conquest of the Horde

Deathealer - A World of Warcraft Novel


Chapter 0] Prolog

First… there came the screaming. It was a terrible sound, like death had looked in the mirror for the first time. It took a few moments for Alahn to realize it was he who was making the retched sound. As soon as he did, he shut his mouth, making an unusual `clack` sound. It gave him a shiver, which was worsened by the cold blackness around him. As he looked around him, all he could see was the darkness.

‘Where am I', he thought. ‘This place is cold, but not enough to make me shiver'.

After a few minutes, his eyes began to adjust to the darkness. A few minutes more, and what he was able to see disturbed him more than the scream had. He was in a crypt, lying on one of the corpse alcoves. The knowledge made him jump to his feet in dread. "Wh . . . Where am I?" His voice cracked and wheezed as he spoke, and the words seemed more difficult to form than they should have. ‘What has happened to my voice' he thought, as he clutched his throat in surprise. His fingers found an all too thin neck, and this worried him even more. Alahn could feel panic welling up within him now, but wrestled control from it.

A voice from his past whispered in his memory; "Beware of the darkness, disciple. Fear and doubt are strongest there. Always remember that even in the blackest night, we can hold the light of a thousand noonday suns in our hearts and minds." The words steadied him, and he calmed his mind. ‘If I am to escape this darkness, I must remember how I first entered it' He searched his memory. ‘Where was I before waking here?' He stood and thought for a long while, remembering the events that had come before...

({[*]})

Chapter 1] Alahn`s Death

The city of Stormwind was the central hub of the human lands. It was a great trade center for the humans, night elves, dwarves, and gnomes of the Alliance, and the noble family of Canralos had proudly been leading the city guards for the past 4 generations. Oralic Canralos was the latest in the family to obtain the position. However, it would seem that (to his frustration) his eldest son would not be sharing in that tradition.

"Father, I will not join the militia! I intend to enter the priesthood and become a healer." Alahn stood firm before his father, while Olaric Glared at him from over the heavy oak desk. "Boy, this family has been warriors for longer than you can imagine! I won`t have you embarrass this family with some notion of that touchy-feely fizzle-fazzle! I won`t have it!"

"Well, it`s too late. I have already taken the trials and been accepted. They expect me and my belongings within the week." Oralic`s jaw practically made a `thud` as it dropped. Then, before he could mutter a single obsanity, Alahn turned away, saying, "I have much to prepare, father. I take my leave", and swiftly left the room.

Halfway down the hall, Alahn heard his father's furious bellows, but he didn`t even miss a step. When he entered the main hall, Jerard was there, a worried smirk on his lips. "If you have to give him any more news like that, he's going to become your first patient." Alahn sighed; his brother was probably right.

Though a year and a half younger than Alahn, Jerard was a strong and muscularly gifted youth. They both shared a dislike of simple killing as a calling in life. But while Alahn had chosen a vocation, Jerard had yet to settle on one.

"And, now he`ll be even more determined to have me in the militia. Wonderful." Alahn smiled at his brother. They had grown up together, and were the best of friends. "You know, Jerard, I still think you should join the Paladin Order. I might have gone that direction, had I been gifted with your strength and prowess." Jerard was not thrilled by his natural skill with weapons and combat. "Al, you know I don`t like killing any more than you do."

“Jer, I told you they are defenders and healers, not killers. Have you at least spoken to the captain at the hall?" Jerard looked at his feet in sullen guilt. "No." Alahn chuckled slightly as he put his arm around his brother while they walked. "You promised me you would at least do that before making any judgments. But it will have to wait, I`m afraid. I need you to help me begin packing my things. I leave for the temple in three days."

Jerared smiled to his brother, "The sooner your gone, the sooner you`re rid of his ranting, huh?" Alahn just smiled slyly at Jerard, and the two of them chuckled their way down the hall.

({[*]})

Time passed relatively swiftly for Alahn, during his training at the temple. His days consisted mostly of classes and study groups, and an occasional visit from Jerard. Before long, six whole years had passed, and Alahn became a full Priest, with the knowledge and skill to heal the sick or injured. It was time for him to be given an assignment.

Alahn strolled contently down the lane, listening to the commotion of Stormwind`s marketplace. He had been coming here every day for a fortnight, hoping some stray rumor might lead to somewhere he could be of help in the world. `The fishmonger was gossiping of Orcs. Perhaps the outlying regions will need a medic? No, the Paladin`s will have that covered.' Discouraged, Alahn turned and headed back toward the temple. It was nearly noon, and he was about to return for the mid-day meal, when something caught his ear.



“. . . was all dead. The whole bloody village!"

"No!"

"That ain`t the worst of it.”

“Ye don' say?”

“Word is, about three days after, while they was still cleanen` out the dead bodies, some ah` them corpses just got up an' walked off!"

"The light protect us! Where you say this happn`d?"

"Yonder, across the sea and the Malestrom, in Lorderon."

"Well, I heard tell of . . ."



Alahn didn`t need to hear any more. Dead that stood and walked was of great concern. Perhaps this would be his chance! ‘The bishop will more than likely send aid for such grave events, and if I am chosen to go, I can truly heal as never before.' He began running toward the temple.

As he ran up the steps of the temple, Alahn slowed. Standing at the top of the steps, speaking to the Vice-Cardinal, stood the Scarlet Commander himself, the leader of the Paladins. When Morgrain saw Alahn approaching, he turned his attention to him. "Alahn Canralos? You are summoned by the Archbishop. You will go to his chambers directly." Alahn quickly made the appropriate bow, "As you declare, High Inquisitor.", and swiftly walked into the temple.

As he walked through the temple, Alahn`s mind raced. The number of times the Archbishop and the High Inquisitor had collaborated could be counted on one hand, with fingers to spare. The situation in Lorderon must have been dire indeed.

When he arrived at the Archbishop`s chambers, he found he was not the only one to be summoned. Only two others were known to him: Jerimyah, a fellow student from Alahn`s days in training and a gifted man with viral diseases; and Corahn, who had been his research instructor. With them were 5 others that Alahn did not recognize all waiting nervously...

A girl, not much older than he was, sat against the wall and looked frightened of whatever they waited on. A tall, thin man stood 3 feet in front of the door, facing the wall from the middle of the corridor. He looked impatient, and slightly annoyed with being summoned. There was also a pair of twins and a stocky woman, all which were unknown to him.

Finally, they were called into the room. What followed were mostly formalities, but it seemed that Alahn had been selected for the ‘Research and Assist Team' to be sent to Lorderon. Apparently, he had made an impression on several of his instructors for his unorthodox solutions to uncommon and unique illnesses. The team would be leaving within the week, and Alahn could hardly contain his enthusiastic excitement.

({[*]})

The voyage across the ocean was uneventful, and soon Alahn found himself at a research station in a small village. Things were far worse than the people in Stormwind were being told. Lorderon was dying, attacked by enemies on the battlefield and within the body. Plague victims were in the tens of thousands, and even more were being slaughtered by scores of undead that roamed the countryside. But at each breakthrough in understanding the plague, 3 more puzzles appeared.

One thing was certain; anyone who died while infected by the plague would rise as an undead monster within days. And it was contagious. Every member of the research team became infected by the end of their first fortnight at the station, and all died soon after. Alahn was the last to succumb to his fate.

It was late in the evening, and he had spent most of the day tending the sick, though he himself was wracked by fever. He was on his way back to his tent, when it happened. First came the shortness of breath, but the day of laboring could account for that. Then, in mid stride, his heart just stopped. He collapsed instantly, and could hear people around him in a sudden commotion. ‘Is this the end of me?' he thought. ‘I was close to an answer. I hope my notes will be of help to the next to come...' and he was swallowed by the dark silence.

({[*]})

Chapter 2] Wishing for Nightmares



Alahn now stood in the crypt, remembering his own death. It was insane, yet he could recall it so vividly. ‘But I can`t have really died, if I`m still here thinking about it, could I?'

~~~More forthcoming~~