The scourge wants YOU!

Darkness…

All encompassing. It swallowed my consciousness…

He spoke to me. His voice tore through me. A harsh whisper, as though I had caused him pain unequaled by that of any other being ever to grace the void.

“Redpath. You belong to me now. Your flesh, lost. Your mind, forfeit. Your soul, devoured. My will is your own. You will obey.”

I awoke with a start in a familiar location. I was back in the barracks, in my private room. I looked down at my wound and exhaled a sigh of relief. I forced myself to stand. Pain griped my entire body. My legs screaming in protest, but I forced them to co-operate. Suddenly, I hear feint clicking noise as a key swivels in its lock. My door swings open and a number of shadowy figures enter.

“You will learn. Your will is no longer your own.”

Six or seven of my own men burst into the room, swords and shields at the ready. “Stand down men, I am alone,” I said. They did not respond. One of them lunged at me. Caught off guard, I attempted to slide out of the way. My brain shouted a command my wounded, broken body had no intent of obeying. His blade found its mark deep in my stomach. I wretched with pain and fell to my knees. Every fiber of my existence was screaming out in pure agony.

“Slay him or he will slay you.”

I fell to my stomach and crawled toward my blade, leaving a dark red trail behind me. I reached out for it, but another of them quickly kicked it away from me.

“You must act faster then them in order to survive. You are pathetic! Slay them!”

They swarmed around me. A soldier I immediately recognized as my second in command grabbed a fistful of my hair and viscously dragged me toward the door, kicking it open. The entire Darrowshire Defensive Force had gathered outside the barracks. Upon seeing my battered, bruised, bleeding body, they began to cheer. “Kill the coward! Spill his blood!” Surprisingly, the most viscous of the gathered force were the Silver Hand Paladins. They seized any opportunity they could as I was dragged past them to kick me and spit on me.

“Give in to me.”

“Fetch a mirror!” Commanded a familiar voice. Three Paladins took off toward the barracks. “And his sword!” suggested another.

“You will have another chance to slay him. I suggest you ready yourself.”

The three Paladins scurried past me, kicking dirt in my face only to return a moment later, lugging a huge, full body mirror. One of them knelt and handed my sword to the traitorous bastard. Two of the Paladins propped the mirror up against a well in the middle of the town square and stood back.

“This is all that awaits you until you learn. I suggest learning quickly.”

The traitor picked me up by my hair and dropped me to my knees. Then, without warning, he dragged my own blade across my throat, opening it and spilling my blood onto the ground. I choked on it. I gasped for air. He watched me grasp for my neck. Never had I felt pain so severe. My mind begged for death. He yanked my head back and forced me to look at myself in the mirror. He leaned in close. “Any last words, captain?” he hissed…

“All shall kneel before you.”

The first of what would be many twitches was my only rebuttal. Darkness enveloped me once more.

“Redpath. You belong to me now. Your flesh, lost. Your mind, forfeit. Your soul, devoured. My will is your own. You will obey me.”

Night after night I would awake in the barracks. Night after night my own men would slay me. At first I just let them kill me. I couldn’t bring myself to fight them.

“They are not worthy of the lives they cling to, Tear it from their bodies.”

It was maddening. Some nights I would just sit and weep as my comrades… my friends… hacked away at me. Eventually, having grown tired of the pain, I fought back.

“Death will not claim you.”

Each night I would slay more and more of them. I would tap into my dark gift. I would be able to cover myself with ice to ward of attacks. I would be able to fire gusts of cold air to knock them down. Eventually, I could even freeze them solid in tombs of ice. I became a killing machine. I lost all feeling I once had toward these men. I descended into madness.

“Pity is for the weak. Death is more then they deserve for betraying you.”

My body dulled itself to pain. I grew ever more powerful the longer I was held in this alternate reality. And then one day… He came to me…

“You are ready.”

The Lich King himself came to me. I knelt before him. I had been defeated, but I didn’t feel as though I had. I felt as though I had always fought for him. Like I finally belonged some where. “You have done well, Redpath. You have grown far beyond my expectations. I bestow upon you the rank of Plaguebearer of the Scourge. You will lead my armies into battle. Your knowledge of militaristic strategy shall prove… invaluable.”

“You are a god among men. They shall come to know your blade.”

I awoke the next day to the same, familiar setting. I was in my barracks. My old friend, Caelyn entered my new, frozen domain. I commanded he leave this place. This time… This time was different. My will was my own once more. I screeched a terrifying screech that shattered the door into a million frozen shards. I knew what had to be done. This time… I took the fight to THEM.