A Death Knight's Curse

The tiny Forsaken woman sits hunched over in the lamplight at her desk. Her quill scratching over the page in her journal, other books and papers lay scattered over the desk. She would consult one every now and again before penning another bit of text. Mio’s brow furrows as she concentrates on the bits of research she was trying to commit to written memory. Muttering to herself once in a while as an idea of some sort seems just out of reach. Her research on the plague and its cures had not been going well. When she was an Apothecary there was little trouble in her work, now though she was more circumspect in what she did, how she tested, and it slowed her down.

Setting down her pen to consult another of her older journals she absently tosses a few bits of apple from the bowl on her desk to the floor for Hope. Scuffling can be heard from the floor as tiny claws scrabble on the wood, followed by munching as the bits are scarfed down by the small furry vaguely rabbit shaped creature. Mio peers at the floor with a little grin as Hope happily munches on her treats, then scans the room to see what the little one had been up to.

“Another robe??!! You’re a menace to all things cloth! I ought to.. arghhh… “

She drops the book and doubles over as stabbing pain wracks her body. Hope scrabbles away, blinking up at her mistress while Mio curls into a ball in her chair shuddering. She growls as the true curse of the death knight wracks her body with another wave of pain. Perhaps it had been a method of control, perhaps a method of making them better killers, whatever the reason the death knights had to kill or suffer the consequence. A death knight could go only a few days without feeding the need to kill.

“Fel.. Damn Arthas and his butchers… Too much time lost..”

The wave passed and the death knight scrambled up from her chair, stripping off the tattered robe she was wearing as she crosses the room to her armor, managing to get her breastplate and pauldrons on before another wave of pain hit her. Biting down on her bottom lip she pulls on the pants then boots of her armor, trying to be quiet and not wake the others on board the ship. Slinging her sword over her shoulder and grabbing up her bracers and gloves before more pain hits, she manages to not cry out, gritting her teeth against it, shuddering.

“Sssstaay here Hhope.. I’ll be back.. ttry not to eat anymore robes… “

The tiny Forsaken manages to make it up on deck without incident, trying to be quiet, trying to control the urge to kill as she lets out a sharp whistle. Standing on the deck shuddering she pulls on the rest of her armor, her hands clenching and releasing reflexively she waits for her mount to land on the deck, wanting to be anywhere but where she was. Out of the darkness a skeletal gryphon shape glides down to land in front of his rider. Growling as she slides onto its back Mio knees the mount into the air, drawing her runeblade from its scabbard she pushes her mount away from the ship, towards land, towards something corrupted, evil, an enemy, something to slaughter and assuage the pain.

“I’ll kill.. but I’ll do it to hinder that bloody bastard..”

Higher into the air, and up over the mountains the pair fly, two sets of glowing blue eyes scanning the ground below, watching as it turns from green to bare rock to white frozen ground. Through the wind the sounds of scourge fighting came to them, the gryphon dives towards the ground, gliding over the snow skeletal claws skimming the ice and snow, slamming into a small group of scourge infantry. Letting out a guttural cry Mioria leaps off of her mount’s back and slashes at the nearest Scourge she could find. Mio becomes a tiny armored whirlwind for a time, loosing herself in the destruction of her enemies. Hacking, slashing, paying no need to the attacks she sustains, and allowing the power of the dried desiccated blood in her body to heal her wounds.

After a time she stands still blinking and coming back to herself. Scattered on the frozen ground around her are the bits and pieces of the scourge she has just destroyed. In her rage, in the need to destroy she has utterly destroyed them, hacked them to bits. Blinking glowing blue eyes once she nods, and heaves a relieved sigh before kicking and tossing the pieces into a pile, using the tattered remains of clothing to start a fire. With a twisted smile of satisfaction she watches the remains burning themselves into ashes before turning to walk off and find something else to destroy.