Blade of Rage (Part 1) - Enter the Ghoul

“Concentrate, death knight,” the Lady Alistra instructs, looking down upon me coldly. “Focus your will.”

Wordlessly, I nod, gathering the sickly-green energies within myself. The circle of initiates around me watch dispassionately, dead eyes reflecting neither curiosity nor compassion. I expect neither.

Acherus has washed away all that. Heroes and champions, villains and thieves, all washed clean – each an empty canvas for the Lich King to paint upon anew. And though we followed High Lord Mograine to a freedom of sorts, we yet remain what the frozen arse of Northrend made of us.

Death incarnate.

“Harness the power of Death, gnome. Drag this sorry carcass back into unlife. Now.”

As instructed, I direct the unholy energies into the unmoving corpse at my feet. It was human once, from the size and shape of the bones and unrotted flesh. Perhaps it was once a Scarlet Crusader. It would fit Lady Alistra’s humor to have such a one used in such a manner.

Briefly, I feel the spirit struggle within my ethereal grasp, but quickly it succumbs to my will. Against the very powers of death, there is no hope of escape. As the Lady has instructed. Numerous times.

“Rise,” I command, raising one gauntleted fist.

Groaning inhumanly, the thing struggles to obey. Drags itself up from the ground, blinks stupid dead eyes at me. Though it towers above me, it knows me to be its master.

“Adequate,” the Lady says.

“I am grateful for the instruction, Lady,” I reply, bowing formal respect.

“Now take your new pet, and go. Put it through its paces, see what it can do.”

I take three backward steps, head still bowed. As I turn, I spare a glance at my new creation. “Come,” I order it tersely. Obediently, it follows.

“Teddy?” the thing mumbles questioningly at me, as we walk down the halls.

“No, rot-for-brains,” I reply. “Shaddup and follow.”