"We are the Forsaken"- Part Two

After two days of travelling, Kilystia trudged through the forest, almost not caring if Worgens or rabid bears got to her.  Before she had left the general vicinity of Deathknell and Brill, she had managed to find the Mage trainer—a task which she did with some disdain.  As a human she had been a Warlock and through some glitch in something she had been forced to begin training as a Mage.  Not that, granted, she had anything against Mages.  Her mother had been a trained Mage, but that fact that this choice, along with her choice to remain dead, had been forced from her, riled her.  She didn’t want to do what they told her.  She was a grown woman, a woman who had been very skilled in her class, a woman who would have rather remained dead.  But, being as they did not give her such as option, she settled on the fact that they were allowing her some space instead of keeping her chained up with glorified babysitters. 

                And now, after a few days of travel and more than enough time to test out her new skills involving fire balls and arcane missiles, Kilystia wanted to arrive at the Forsaken High Command.  She wanted to arrive, meet this Banshee Queen, get on with whatever task was require of her, and maybe find a weakness in the Horde. If, by any chance, she could convince a member of the Alliance to take her back, she would have valuable information for them.  Maybe. 

                She was getting close, could hear the sounds of Worgens and Forsaken guards fighting—the howls of the wolfmen and the grunts of the Forsaken clashing as steel clashed with steel.  The Worgens engaged the guards, pushing back with brutality, drawing the guards closer and closer to their limits of strength, before dancing back a step and letting the guards make a move.  War was definitely at hand, hedging close and closer to its inevitable end, but for once Kilystia wasn’t sure what way it would go.

Silverpine Forest

                Another thing Kilystia was not too sure about was her desire to go about killing.  She was enjoying the scenery around this part of Silverpine Forest—the stately trees, the lush green carpets.  She had never thought that the Horde could live in places of beauty, in places that radiated life.  They were vile, uncouth.  They were monsters.  But so was she now.  She was a monster and yet, here she was, walking through this forest that was, for the most part, serene.  She wanted to focus on the beauty of the forest and stop killing rapid bears and zombies for a bit, as she had done plenty of that the past few days.

                “Where might I find the Lady Sylvanas?”  she asked as she approached a guard near the front of the Command.  Maybe she could reason with the Banshee Queen, as it was rumored that she had been part of the Alliance at one point.

                “Thataway,” the guard responded without giving her so much as a look.  She was rough, covered in a thin layer of dirt, her purplish hair a bit tangled.  She looked like a pauper.

Lady Sylvanas and the Warchief

                “Lady Sylvanas?”  It was definitely the Banshee Queen, the Dark Lady, the Queen of the Forsaken, there was no doubt about that.  The High Elf sat regal on her steed, a black heavily armored stallion who chomped at the bit and pawed at the ground in anticipation.  Her dusky skin contrasted sharply with her dark bound tresses and she looked like a Queen.  Not a warrior.  Still, she was, technically, Kilystia’s new Mistress.

                “I don’t have all day.”  Huskiness edged her voice and she looked down at Kilystia.  “What is it you require?”

                “Deathguard Darnell sent me here to assist you.” 

                “Ah, yes, I heard mention of you.  The Humans, as I am sure you are aware, are constantly in battle with us, but now they are trying to engage the Worgen against us.  We are the Forsaken and this is our territory.”

                “Yes, Lady.”

                “We will not allow such a thing.  The Warchief and I disagree on what should be done, he calls me nothing but another Lich King. I have been raising the Scourge with the help of the Val’kyr in order to have them serve as the Forsaken.  We need the armies, we need the force—for the Forsaken and for the Horde. The Humans and Worgen  have a tenuous bond as of now, and we need to keep on them—watch what they are doing, kill them.”  She paused, looking out over the Command for a moment.  “You will help.”

                Kilystia waited, unsure of the correct response, unsure of what to say.

                “We need help fighting the Worgens that attempt to breech this city, the ones fighting the Forsaken troopers.  Help them Kilystia.  But be wary.  They plot something with the humans.  See if you can find out what it is.  We need to stay strong and be prepared.”

                “Of course, Lady Sylvanas,” Kilystia stepped back, ready to walk away, when the Banshee Queen’s voice drew her back.

                “Feel free to see what other tasks need to be done.  The more you accomplish, the higher you can get in the ranks.  You have great potential, Kilystia.”  She offered a curt nod before turning her horse away towards the Warchief once again.

                Kilystia sighed and headed towards a worried looking official, speaking animatedly with an Undead Deathguard.  “Lady Sylvanas sent me.  Is there anything you need assistance with?”  She interrupted the conversation.  There was no need to be polite.  These were uncivilized people, people who did not deserve kindness the way those in the Alliance did.

                “The giant spiders have captured the Orc Sea Dogs.  We need to rescue the survivors from their webs.  They are located in the Skittering Dark.  If you can rescue them, you will get a reward.”  It seemed like a silly task, but rewards were good, and Lady Sylvanas did promise a faster ascension through the ranks if she helped.

Helping to Kill the Worgen

                Kilystia set out, jogging out of the Command Post and into the forest, heading first towards the warring Worgens and Troopers.  She approached the first pair, standing several yards back, pinning her focus on the Worgen.  He was weakening, of that she was sure, and as she loosed the fireball at him, she prepared for the imminent attack.  It came, pouncing, with claws drawn, raking through her upper arm.  She screamed in pain, stumbling back while attempting to ready her next spell.  She manages and brings the Worgen down, giving her body only a short time before running to the next Worgen. 

                Again and again she helped the Troopers kill the Worgens, and each death brought more pain to her body.  They were attacking her and she was still weak.  Kilystia had to force herself to cannibalize a Worgen, gaining some of her strength back.  It disgusted her, causing shivers up her spine, but she did it—eating the raw meat from the bonds, forcing herself to swallow.  When they Worgens were finally all down, she took a deep breath, looking around at the carnage.  Baby steps, Kilystia.  Baby steps.  You can do it.

Worgens

                Picking her way among the dead bodies, she found her way to the old house stead, following the directions on a small map that Lady Sylvanas gave her, navigating the rundown floor plan to the uppermost bedroom.  It was a rough house, a place meant for short stays—a rough place with no furnishings other than a bed, a table, a wardrobe.  Kilystia hid in the wardrobe, weaseling in between some neglected clothing.  It doesn’t take long for Packleader Ivar Bloodfang and Deathstalker Rane Yorick to enter, plotting to overthrow Lady Sylvanas and the Forsaken.  They argue (it seems everyone argues around here), their alliance uneasy, and Kilystia listens carefully.  Holding her breathe, her body taut, Kilystia presses back against the wardrobe, waiting for them to leave.  Please, please go away.  I’d rather not die again.  And she wouldn’t, not really. 

                It seemed like a lifetime before they left, having arrived at some uneasy truce, a truce which was not at all a good sign for the Forsaken.  When they finally left to rally their own troops, Kilystia tentatively opened the wardrobe door, moving slowly and carefully.  She needed to keep moving, even though she debated going to the Packleader and Deathstalker to try to argue her stance.  She might not be able to go home, but she could also fight for the Alliance in another way.  She might be able to fight against those who took her freedom in death away.  But instead, she exited the house, heading up towards the Skittering Dark, dodging behind trees and rocks, keeping out of sight from those who sought to attack her. 

                As she crested the largest hill she noticed the oddly shaped bundles of spider silk.  They struggled against their trappings as the large spiders skittered around.  Kilystia hovered behind a tree, carefully considering her options.  The spiders were everywhere, guarding their prey, but she had the advantage.  She could stand near the trees and cast onto the spiders and then get the trapped Orc Sea Dogs, or she could kill one spider and save one Orc Sea Dog at a time. As a spider moved dangerously close to her she made her decision, aiming a fireball at the large arachnid, bringing it down in a few spells.  Once down, she dashed from her hiding place and wrested the Orc Sea Dog from his trappings.  From there on out he helped her, and each time she faced a spider and conquered another one, another Orc Dog was saved until she had six thanking her for her help.  They helped bring down the spiders and she found herself thanking them, glad for their help, glad to have completed another task. 

                Kilystia sat near the tree, chipping n some of the crunch spider legs she looted from the corpses, letting her body recover from the onslaught of Worgens and spiders.  When she had been alive, she had hated spiders.  Small ones would crawl through the family home and big ones, similar to these, were often seen when riding a tour through the forests—and each time she’d find herself screaming.  Kilystia could face mithril and steel weapons, but when faced with eight eyes and bristly legs, she succumbed.  But she couldn’t allow the spiders to scare her today, not when she had things to do.  “They are bugs.  And you have stuff to do.”

                She wrestled to her feet, consulting her map again before heading toward Fenris Isle where Lady Sylvanas hinted at Human vs. Worgen alliance.  It was despicable; to think of humans aligning themselves with humanoids, but it was better than becoming a walking skeleton.  Right?