Dark Thoughts

[Thoradin]

Fear. Fear is what subdues lesser men. Fear is what brings forth weakness. Fear is an illness. Fear... was a common concept to the Lord von Kolnstein. Johannes paced in his large bedchamber, a glass of red wine in his hand. Every so often he would stop only to peer out of the stained glass window above his desk, searching the darkness for something. Enemy? Ally? Answers? Even he did not know, he only looked outside because it gave him a semblance of relief. He could always practice, always keep his mind fit and hands nimble.

He snapped back to reality as a pair of howls echoed in the distance. Howls unlike any wolf, "The Worgen are prowling out there again tonight," he said to himself in the quiet hearth-light. He drank the last few drops of his wine, setting the glass down afterwards on his desk. He came to his wardrobe, looking at the tall antique with feeling eyes. It moaned as he opened it, removing a dark robe. He slipped into the garment, shutting the old door, once more soliciting a moan in the dead of night. Johannes pulled the hood up over his head, it was going to be one of those nights.

Silently the old man crept from his own house, his own manor, his own lands. The Duskwood holds a great many grave sites, from before and after its corruption. One such site happened to be close, so near that Johannes braved the total darkness without fear of attack. He had preformed this journey dozens of times before, and will continue as long as he can, he deemed it necessary. Eyes gleamed at him in the darkness, following his movements as he made his way through the brush.

Soon enough, Johannes had arrived. A small graveyard with those fortunate few who passed away long before torments such as undead, or even orcs, assailed their kin. He sighed heavily, "I only wish I could ask your permission, before I begin, old ones. But I am sure, you know by now my reasons for doing this. And I thank you, for your sacrifice time and again." He ran his fingers across the lettering of a headstone, wiping away the moss that had grown into it. He muttered a short prayer, and began to dig.

For the better part of three hours, Johannes dug up the grave with his bare hands, until he finally hit wood. The coffin was beaten. Old. Weak and rotted. He respectfully open it up, allowing the corpse of a long dead farmer to air out. The old man crawled out of the grave, standing and breathing hard. Regaining his composure, Johannes began to move his hands in unison. He chanted aloud, "Rise, being of the past, rise! Come to inhabit once more, under my word, rise! I summon you from the Beyond to rise!" As if by the chanting, or the intricate movements of his hands, a dark purple glow began to form in Johannes palms. The mass of color shifted and faded, regaining itself over and over until it was ready. At that point, Johannes had began to direct it to the body laying in the ground.

Wheezing, hacking, coughing. That was all that could be heard after the spell was finished. The wrinkled, dried, rotten body stirred. It rose from its grave, a haze growing and clouding its vision. Johannes stood, observing his creation, studying it. The corpse hacked again, a clump of debris was spewed out. Dirt, worms, mold. Realization set in the creature, as it looked around. All it saw was darkness, with the occasional beam of moonlight that pierced the canopy. Its dead eyes fixated on Johannes after a few moments, coming to the understanding that this man had risen him from his rest.

"First off, my friend, I want to apologize for awakening you from your slumber. I had no way of asking before hand, so I will only do this once, unless you have no reservations about me... using your help to uncover a set of questions, and their answers. You may speak your mind, if you have the ability," the old man said, politely. The creature looked at him in awe, unsure of what he meant.

"I... I died. I was... dead. And you brought me back? For questions? Answers? I am afraid, if you wanted the knowledge of a secret treasure room, filled with the spoils of war, I must tell you something. You're out of luck, as I am... was but a simple farmer," wheezed the undead.

Nodding at the creature, Johannes responded, "I seek a sought after question, with a sought after answer. I am not the first, nor will I be the last to search for it. But I ask each of those I raise, to beg for their aid in my study to find it. If you seek to slumber, to rest once more, I can grant you that peace, as it is your right. However if you aid me in this, I promise I will do whatever is in my power to make sure you benefit when I have what I seek."

In complete silence, the undead gazed at Johannes, studying him with two solid black eyes. It opened its maw, "Well, I... see no reason not to help you. Personally, I dislike being dead. It is quite boring, but I doubt I will be of much aid to you. I will, of course do my best to help you in your quest." The undead grinned at Johannes, splitting what was left of its lips in the process. "I am, or, rather was Elias Fairton."

Johannes smiled warmly, with a hint of dark desire, "A pleasure, I am Lord Johannes von Kolnstein. I hope to discover it soon."

Discover what, exactly? You've yet to tell me your goal," hacked Elias.

Grinning with controlled madness, Johannes' eyes fixated on the ghoul. His words came out softly at first, "My goal? Yes, my goal. My ambition. My single drive, my reason to exist. My dear Elias... I seek Immortality."