[RP Story] The First Test

Just outside of the Grizzly Hills nearby to the Conquest Hold. The forest acting as a veil worked well for not being seen. As intended.
The pain was immeasurable. Both mentally and physically it was the work forcing him to continue. He had found killing eased the pain only briefly, but those brief seconds were paradise and were worth any price. He knew he was damned, told many times that the Scourge would be victorious no matter what happens. The voices told him so.

‘Malice’ garbed in black leathers adorned with horns, small spikes and furs swarmed through the Grizzly Hills for days now, killing the off guard and animals alike.

This deer was no exception. A gauntlet wrapped around it’s skull and the throat was slit open. He threw it to the ground and enjoyed the moment.

The sound of footsteps could be heard nearby, as were the voices and the pain. He growled viciously trying to taunt that within him, quickly jabbed more. He turned and eyed some tainted elf upon an undead steed. He was not us.

“Ah, my subj—“ Seidra’s words were cut short as the ranger threw himself towards the steed, thrusting both blades and narrowly missing it forced Seidra to roll away and draw his blades in turn.

The ranger turned; perhaps this one would fight, perhaps not. If they fought well there was the chance of becoming more then a ghoul. We would see. He ran forwards not giving him a chance to recoup from the attack; he thrust downwards aiming for Seidra’s tainted face.
Sliding the blades to the side he managed a kick to the ranger’s leg, dropping him to his knees briefly to retain balance. He glanced up seeing the Demon Hunter to have made some distance between them both.

He began to speak but very little seemed to sink in. The ranger growled in a beastial fashion and sprinted towards the elf. Thrusting forward there was no room for defence; this one focussed entirely on offence in his style and was that what lost him. Seidra turned his body, narrowly missing the blades, spun around and swung both of his. As the blades raked his back he fell to the ground lifelessly.

The elf continued speaking unheard words. It was not that he spoke unintelligible language or rare languages such as demonic, but because Malice’s mindset was purely on the battle.

“Hm. Disappointing.” Cut through to him. He growled into the ground and with a few punches upon it made way to his feet once more. This fool did not know how to kill him and as such all what was needed was persistence till he became drained.

He turned and glared at him readying to fight once more and noted the fat figure behind them both watching identified as an orc.


He did not resume the battle since by their greetings to each other they knew each other and were on friendly terms. And he was led to believe this was a demon spawn as well. No, but the flicker of movement in the distance kept him alert. He was aware how the situation looked however, an undead attacking someone in Northrend unprovoked. A salute was passed to the orc springing an eyebrow as a result.

After minutes the orc left and the elf stepped forward, catching the ranger off balance. Or so it seemed. The blade was to his chest, his hands were upon the hilts of his, any strike the demon spawn did would not kill him.

‘How does this person know me?’ ran through him constantly. He came to an assumption that fit well. ‘This person knew me in life’.

He was almost certain he would feel more pain if he learnt about himself and decided not to inquire. His mind was wiped blank for a reason and “memories cause mercy”, not sure where it was heard but most likely a unit of the Scourge, made it seem sensible to do so.

“Let me see your seal.”

“Are you going to finish me?”

“Your seal.”

And then it occurred to him. He had already decided this one was to be raised a ghoul or otherwise. He would not destroy it beyond reanimation. He recalled being plagued by a tattoo a while ago and thus showed what was of it to lull him into his sense of security. If he could quicken to process then by any means he was to do so.

The sight of the seal was not what he expected. It was completely destroyed despite him believing it was indestructible. Perhaps it was changed. Either way his torso was covered in necromantic runes that pulsed infectiously upon him. This was the pinnacle of his creation. All that power, the joy given from such, the runes served as the reminder of that moment.

As he placed his garments back on there was somewhat a silent truce. Seidra spoke as if to declare his lack of movement for this.

“I see. I will have to find another student’s soul then.”

Interest filled him at the point of the Demon Spawn yet the stare was short lived as the pain grew. He could feel himself being pushed, his limbs beginning to move of their own accord. He raised a hand in the air that flowed with necromantic energy.

“What do you see?” the mangled voice whispered.

“I see something to do with the Scourge.”

“Hm. Not simple enough to give “undeath” as the obvious answer then!” he lowered the hand along with the other unseen to the ground, a shadow bolts jetted down and a black fog rose upwards.

Crouching downwards he sprung through, holstering his weapons he attempted to slide past the Demon Spawn and did so. His body jerked as Seidra was now placed in a headlock, a hand lowered and unsheathing a blade to his back.

Seidra muttered quietly “Of course, a shame for you really since killing me means dropping the mana bomb I have. Release your anger! Strike me down whilst you can!”

A sneer formed behind his mask yet he grunted as if amused by this and spoke “You would put..” he jerked the Demon Spawn around, careful not to break his neck just yet.

“.. The orcs in danger over me? I am touched. I am just a husk, destroyed, humiliated and violated by any and all. I am damned. Go on, amuse me, what can you do to inspire fear in something that is eternal in its pain?”

Silence passed..

“This does not sound like Malice. Who is speaking?”

“I am speaking—“

The Demon Spawn attempted to spring free, clutching at the arm around his neck he forced it forward.. a bit more... Malice remained silent in this, he still had a blade to his spine, what he saw was measuring him for what he could of been in undeath. The arm fell close to his neck again yet he found the escape point. Dipping his head in time he turned around, forcing his hands to the trusted blade landing in the lower part of his ribcage.

Feeling his life drain away as it grew into physical form beneath him he continued to try and pull the blade free.

“Indeed.” Now confident the battle was his he kicked Seidra to the ground freeing the blade and peered around for another victim. Seidra was done; he could feel a very slight increase in power and peered for another foe. There it was! The flicker of movement again! Not sure what race to make of the rogue, he did however see it, and sprinted after it further into the forest.

Minutes turned to possible hours, he was till near the hold but possibly the other side by now. He had lost the assassin and quickly came to the wounded elf once more.

A sigh almost a laugh passed his lips as he eyed Seidra limping forwards. “You do not die do you? Well, I cannot respect you but you can earn yourself a more powerful form..” the elf continued moving forwards, not intending to make use of any proposition. “.. there is a spectator amongst us! Kill it and bring the corpse to me.” Even at walking pace he could not of beaten the ranger, so him running did not prove helpful in the least. He left sight.

Seidra crouched down; attempting to preserve what energy he had left that ebbed away. He peered about cautiously; certain something was going to jump out. More minutes passed and nothing happened.

Alike a needle the first arrow pierced his side. He gasped for breath but even that was short lived. The second arrow pierced his leg, he now fell forwards to restrain himself from collapsing. Many minutes of gasping took place. The ranger was there, and was waiting for him to see his foe when dying.

Grasping the energy he thrust a hand into his pocket pulling out a small crystal. It was that which would save him.
A warped grunt of success was given, noticing his movement for a possible weapon another arrow was loosed into his shoulder. The crystal was broken however and Seidra’s form started to become ethereal.

With each second his body grew stronger. The physical pain was fading. He began to step to his feet and pulled out the arrows until the voice replied cooly.

“Demon Spawn. You are indeed able to suffer much punishment. You are worthy of some acknowledgement..”

“So.. gnnnn.... you aren’t Malice then?” he grunted, not completely steady on his feet yet.

“Your torture has been... amusing. Good bye.” And with that the final arrow was loosed piercing Seidra’s skull. The body swayed and fell limp to the ground.

The ranger stood another arrow ready since this creature seemed to have an annoying knack for coming back. His eyes narrowed as he turned his head slightly, eyeing the small ball that rolled off of the corpse.

“The manabomb” he thought to himself, and indeed it was for it twitched and lighted up a variety of colours.
He sprinted off to evade the blast, noticing a rock four times the size of him nearby and leaped behind it. His feet were caught by the blast spinning him around.

Trees, bushes and structures nearby swayed by the blast, including the rock which fell with a loud thud.

(( I can tell this is flawed but this is the reason I don't write stories often! I put this here first since one assumes people in Grizzly Hills on the 18th of July or afterwards would of been able to see the result or the sound when it happened. Also, for the record "The good, the bad and the ugly" I'd be interested to here who you think is which out of me, Seidra, and Graanshakuun. (sp?) ))