That's family... right?

[Uguu]

The following contains intense violence, blood, methods of torture, and murder. User discretion is advised.

Elwynn Forest. Two days ago...

Gripped in the plated gauntlet, the small dirt colored paper was crumbled into a ball in short order. Thrown into a puddle on the side of the road, the rain still bearing down on the forest, as the Knight began marching to the east. His steps pounding the metal of his boots against the stone of the road, as he pressed on tirelessly. Leaving the letter behind him, the water it had fallen into wasting it away, the man soon came to a point in the road.

The letter had read;"Dear Rydanovich. It has been a long time, since I last wrote you. Every night, I wish I could lay with you again, like we did years ago. I miss you so much, my love. The children are growing up just fine, even if they can't have you with them. Sarah is learning to sing, she's like a little angel. Nalen has been helping the local militia with boxes. Mostly moving stuff, but he seems to love helping them. I am so sorry with what a horrible thing they did to you. Every day, I wish the Light would grant you peace, and let you have your old life back. It is because of that, that I can barely bear to write this. Rydanovich, we need help. These men came to the house, theatened our kids, broke the table. They say we owe them money. Please, honey, I'm scared. The militia said they would look into it. But I'm afraid for our kids. Please. Love, and forever yours; Lilah."

The message fresh in mind, Rydanovich marched down the road, his runic blue eyes glaring with rage, runed blade gripped tightly in his armoured fist. Rydanovich had always made sure to keep a watchful eye on his family, even more so than he ever did for even his closest friends, and knew right then and there who it was he was hunting. Volgin Pasterson, a man well known as a bandit and murderer, wanted by Westfall's brave militia for too many a crime to count. Months. Months had this man avoided the justice and retribution he deserved. No longer. Two men stood before the Death Knight, known 'henchmen' of his prey. Surely, they would know something. Something worth causing them unspeakable pain, to get.

A mere twenty feet from the first of the two men, both on either side of the road, Rydanovich narrowed his good eye into a glare on the first of his targets. A rather short man, he was, with narrow shoulders, eyes close together on his face, and a nose that had clearly been broken perhaps one too many times. His eyes shifted across the road, to the other man. Partnered for a reason to the other, the man could be confused easily for a half-bred Orc. A towering man, broad shoulders, fists the size of small melons, and a jawline built and as hard as a brick, the man was clearly the 'muscle' of the pair.

Laughs bellowed out between the two men, a bag of likely stolen copper bounced up and down in the smaller man's hand, landing against his palm with a metalic jingle of coins. These two knew something, that much was clear. The local guard had always questioned them before, about their 'boss', but never got anywhere. It frustrated the captain to no end, every time he had to release them, without making any headway. But there was always a problem with how the guard had handled them. They were, after all, guards. They had laws, orders, and the usual 'problems' proper authority has. Rydanovich, on the other hand, did not. And he had information the guard didn't.

He knew they were lovers.

[Uguu]

Weakness to be exploited.

Slowly, droplets of rain pounding the forest floor began to lessen, the clouds above parting gracefully for the sun to shine through. Golden light quickly brightened the wet stones of the road, the moist leaves still dripping quietly to the grassy floor below. Drawn to the dark brown metal clad figure, standing a distance just shy of twenty feet, the two men locked their eyes onto the broad shouldered Knight marching toward them.

Years of practice had given the smaller man an almost magical sense for trouble. With little more than the slightest gesture of his finger, his brutish ally suddenly broke into a mad charge, roaring and spitting insults, and soon closed the distance between him and the Knight. The club-like fist of the man rocketed through the air, the Knight turning his head firmly to his left, and impacted a sharp, metal point on his helmet. Blood spurted from the stub of what once was the man's index finger, as the severed digit fell to the still wet road below them. Just as quickly as the man screamed, was he silenced. A ruthless gauntleted hand wrapped around his thick throat, applying such pressure that the man fell to his knees, desperately trying to breath again. The sight of his lover falling in battle, a metal plated knee slamming into and breaking his nose, the brutish thug finally gave in and fell to the ground.

Gripped by fear, the smaller of the two began pleading and spitting excuse after excuse, in a desperate bid to walk away alive. No mercy was to be shown, today. Information was needed. Information worth more than both of their lives together. Despite having tried his best to recover, the larger man finally awoke to find himself, and his lover, tied to the fence they had once leaned against. A point had to be made.

"Volgin. Where is he?" Straight to the point, always an attempt to hide his inability to speak properly, Rydanovich followed the commanding question with a ruthless and brutal strike to the larger man's knee. His scream, snapping him fully awake, deafened the cries of the man tied up beside him. The sounds of bones cracking and breaking under a second, agonizing kick of plated metal against bone, was overshadowed by further cries and wails. "Where!?" The Knight roared into the crying man's ear. Stammering his answer, words shaken with fear, the man began to angrily thrash against the rope. Rydanovich promptly grabbed the larger one by the hand, forcing it forward to make it clearly visable to the other man, before he began violently breaking the man's fingers in every way possible. "Stop! Please!" The man's pleas fell on deaf ears, as Rydanovich slipped a small dirk from his belt, and brought it to bear.

Welling up with tears, even the giant of a man was helpless to resist as the Knight began mercilessly carving into the flesh of his cheeks, leaving them ragged and bloodied. "Talk!" He roared again, using the man as a canvas, and began 'writing' his name into the man's forehead. "A-alright! f**k! I'll talk!" Despite his compliance at last, the Knight continued inflicting such a terrible agony upon the man, leaving most of his face a horribly tattered and bloodied state. "Talk or I continue!" Desperate to stop his lover's unspeakable pain, he began throwing out random spurts of information, begging the Knight to stop as he did. Choking for moments on his own vomit, the brute began to lose himself to agony, his arms thrashing madly and desperately against his bindings.

"Westfall! H-... He gets shipments! Find the runner!" Ever persistant, the Knight moved lower and tore the man's clothes away. Revealing his solid, muscled chest, he began ripping and tearing the dirk into him, more agonized wails following. Tears streamed down the yelling man's cheeks, unable to bear watching his lover suffer so terribly. "Shack! There's a-ah... A shack! Near Duskwood! By that old bridge!" Always a man of his word, even in death, Rydanovich had made sure to uphold his promise, and the torture had no longer continued. With both of their throats slit, ear to ear, the Knight began marching to the west. Information. He finally had it. A shack, known for drug and weapons smuggling, sat near the border between Duskwood and Westfall.

There was work to be done.

[Uguu]

Westfall. One day ago.

It was always his only true weakness. His family. His family meant everything. The things he would do for them, and without even a second thought. Many things in the world motivated Rydanovich to do the things he does. Djim. A name that was mentally carved into the Knight's very being. One of the few true friends he had ever come to know, after being cursed into Knighthood. For that boy, Rydanovich has murdered, tortured, and brought unspeakable horrors upon people that dared to even speak a word against him. He didn't regret any of it. Even when the boy vanished, without a trace, seemingly leaving the Knight behind. It didn't matter. True friendship for a few moments, was worth thousands of years of torment, for Rydanovich.

It was why he rode into Westfall. Why he beheld the almost desert-like farmlands. It was why murder was the only thing on his mind. It was with hate and fear, that the Knight marched his way through the barren wasteland. Hate. Hate of everything that had dared to threaten his family. Dared to try to harm something he would give his life for, a million times over. Something he would burn the world for, just to see them smile. If only a moment. There were no lengths of what he would go through, the suffering he would endure, the agony he would inflict, and the terrible monster he would become. If only for them. Fear. Fear for the slightest thought of failure. Of losing what he held so dear. Of being too late. The thought haunted him.

The weight of his boots pounded across the barren grass. The skull of a long dead animal, exploded, as his boot came down upon it. Dried blood caked the Knight's armour, from his knees all the way to his shoulders. The memory of torturing those men, in Elwynn, stayed with him. He exploited such a beautiful thing. Love. Abused it, used it to instill terror and agony. But he did not regret it. One thing always ensured that. The name Lilah, a woman he loved more than anything in the world. He would torture those men all over again, untill the end of time, if it would grace him a smile from her lips. The thought gave him pause, the sound of his boots no longer hitting the dirt below him. Even in this cursed form, he missed kissing her. Missed holding her tightly against him.

It drove him forward, with relentless dedication. Even if he could never know such joy again, he would sooner damn himself to an eternity of Hell, if it would keep her safe. As he crested a hill, the blood stained plates covering him glinting faintly in the light, his runic eyes drew to a small figure in the distance. Standing beside a small, wooden shack.

[Uguu]

Innocence be damned.

With a harsh kick, the door of the shack suddenly flew opened. Nearly two hours, had the Knight had his eyes locked onto this structure. Waiting. Watching. A man stepped out from the shack, a smaller woman wrapped in his arms, as he swung her around and pushed her against the wall. Rydanovich watched from the distance, as their lips pressed together, their tongues danced around inside and out of their mouths, as the man's hands grabbed all over her. Grabbing her by her bottom, lifting her up and pushing her further against the wall, his hand finally moved to begin tearing away her blouse. She was a simple enough woman. Long, gold-like hair, with a hourglass figure. Atleast, simple by the Knight's concerns. It didn't matter. The woman was merely a distraction. One the Knight had waited for.

As her blouse fell away from her, a hand grasping one of her breasts, the Knight drew forth his runed blade and began rushing down the hillside. Drawn to the widened eyes of the woman, the man turned his head over his shoulder, and spotted a figure out the corner of his eye. Fear set into the man, as he suddenly spun the woman around himself, and threw her towards the Knight. She let out an ear piercing scream, the Knight cleaving his blade through her, as her half-naked body was torn in half. Blood flew in all directions, coating the already stained armour of the Knight, as Rydanovich relentlessly continued his charge. The thought that he'd just cut down an innocent, chasing after a target, never even crossed his mind. The man never stood a chance, even with the 'distraction' that woman provided.

Nearly four hours passed, with the man waking to find himself chained to a rusty, metal chair, inside the wooden shack he'd hidden himself in just hours before. He began to scream. His eyes locked onto the hanging, dismembered and bloodied corpse of his would-be 'lover'. Most of her skin had been flayed from her body, organs hanging limp from her split torso, as her lifeless eyes stared down with the same horror she'd died with. Just as his screaming could not possibly get any louder, Rydanovich abruptly stood up from a corner in the shack, and marched closer to the man. Before he could even react to the Knight, he found a large, rusty nail punched into his knee.

Pain flooded his senses, the cap of his knee splitting apart from the nail driven into it, as blood ran down his leg and onto the dirty floor. Just as the blood began to pool around his foot, the Knight suddenly kicked the nail in further, and drove a second nail into his other knee. He continued on, for a few minutes, slowly and painfully nailing the man's entire legs into the chair. Rydanovich abruptly slapped the man across the face, cheeks sharpening red from the impact. "Volgin. Where. Is. He!?" The answers came all too easily. He had grown used to torturing people for information. To get the job done. But it was a rare thing for someone to give what he needed on the first demand of it, even with some pain thrown in first to 'help' them out. It struck the Knight as an oddity, but he paid it little mind. He had what he wanted. No cost was too high.

Once again, his boots pounded across the dirt of Westfall. The man's screams heard in the distance, as smoke rose into the sky. Never once looking back to the burning shack, the Knight pressed onward, as the still screaming victim was burned alive.