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Old 09-16-2010, 07:13 PM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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Forsaken
Written by Exxile87
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Introduction: The Voice and the Shadow

A voice pierced his world. It was only a whisper, but in the silence it resounded like a clap of thunder. It echoed for several agonizing seconds, and then all was quiet again. A moment passed, and he slowly drifted back into the darkness. As he began to once again slip away, the voice reached out to him, only this time it shook him to his core. The voice sang now, as a bird at the first sign of morning light. The voice carried sweet promises of revenge, of power, of acceptance, purpose, and of a new life. A second life.

A second life?, he asked himself. But I’m only sleeping. How can I…? And then he remembered.

His mind returned to the day his world ended. He remembered the running; the fear of all living in his home town of Corin’s Crossing. He remembered the stench of the undead. He remembered the sharp pain in his back as the ghoul’s claws pulled him to the ground, and he remembered the cold look in his brother’s eye and he lifted his rifle. He did not recall the feeling of the bullet piercing his heart. After looking in his brother’s face, all he could recall was the cold black embrace of the shadows. And the silence. By the Light, he could remember the silence.

Again that silence was broken, but this time, he answered. At first, the act of speaking wracked him with pain. His throat burned as if he’d swallowed fire. His lungs screamed that there was no oxygen to allow him to speak, yet he spoke. He screamed, giving his anger and pain his voice.

He felt abandoned. Hadn’t he always been told that if his faith was strong, the Light would welcome him in death? Hadn’t his parents, both faithful members of the Church, both trained in the ways of the Light, taught him that if he upheld the Three Tenants he’d be rewarded when his time came? He had seen no Light. He’d been welcomed into death by Shadow. He’d been left alone in the dark, and no comfort was to found.

At least, not until the voice had reached out to him. The voice and its promises…how could he ignore them? He wanted to rise out of his resting place and answer the call. He wanted to stand and be counted among those the voice spoke of; others who had been abandoned. The Forsaken. He steeled himself. He would not allow himself to sleep any longer. The Light had abandoned him to the Shadow, and now it and those who followed it would pay. Edarik Thatcher rose from his resting place, and opened his eyes. His second life had begun.
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Last edited by Exxile87; 09-20-2010 at 07:36 PM..
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Old 09-20-2010, 05:39 PM
Orifiel Whitedeer Orifiel Whitedeer is offline

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...that's it? There better me more to this or I'll have to pour water on you, lava-murlock >. then you'll be all steamy and have a hard time moving, and no one wants that
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Old 09-20-2010, 07:35 PM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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Originally Posted by Orifiel Whitedeer View Post
...that's it? There better me more to this or I'll have to pour water on you, lava-murlock >. then you'll be all steamy and have a hard time moving, and no one wants that
I love you. More is coming, but balancing work, beta, trying to keep my raiding guild together, a new relationship, and writing this story is kind of a task. But don't worry, the first chapter is almost ready.
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Old 09-20-2010, 09:09 PM
Nozdormu Nozdormu is offline

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One word; Awesome!
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Old 09-21-2010, 03:32 AM
Orifiel Whitedeer Orifiel Whitedeer is offline

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Yeah I know how that juggling act can be. Although I stopped raiding once I got the kingslayer title and am now working on my fic, work, and getting the loremaster title. Can't wait to see more though
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Old 09-24-2010, 09:19 PM
Exxile87 Exxile87 is offline

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Chapter One - Up From the Grave, He Arose

Edarik opened his eyes. He was lying flat on his back in an opened coffin. His vision was blurred at first, and his eyes hurt. He tried to breath, but there was no point; his lungs were fr too rotten to function. He pulled himself from the coffin, his joints popping and cracking. He found himself, shockingly, in a graveyard surrounded by a deep and ancient forest. He began to wonder around, careful not to stray from his coffin.

Edarik's muscles moved without flexing. He sensed that he was propelled not by the natural mechanics of a human body, but by something else; something stronger than simple biology. It was as though his body moved simply because he willed it to move. And, he supposed, magic.

"Bloody hell. I've become one of the Scourge!" Edarik began to panic. However, after a moment's frantic worrying, he realized that, no, he wasn't one of the vile Scourge.

My will is my own, of that I'm certain. he thought, and just to prove it to himself, he kicked his coffin. The weakened wood splintered under the blow. Edarik noted that he took much pleasure in even that small amount of destruction.

"You look quite pleased with yourself." a voice rasped from just behind him. Edarik wheeled about.

"Who's there?!" he demanded. "Show yourself, or I swear I'll---"

"You'll what? Scratch him with your scary claws? Foolish corpsebrain. You wouldn't stand a chance. You'd be dead before your blow would look like anything more than an infant reaching for it's nose." Another voice, this one female and slightly less raspy, yet much more unsettling.

"Who---who are you? What's happened to me?" Edarik stammered. He was tossing his eyes in all directions, trying to determine where the voices originated from, to no avail. The shadows themselves seemed to be calling out to him.

"You died. But you seem to have gotten better." The raspy male this time.

"Ugh, must you always say that to the fresh recruits? Its so irritating."

"Only a bit of fun, my love. But perhaps you are right; perhaps this one hasn't gotten better. He seems quite the dullard."

This is too much. What of the promises of the Voice? What madness is this? Edarik's head was spinning.

"You know my love, this one seems different somehow. He doesn't strike me as...no, no, you're right. He's a dullard." The female voice giggled at that.

Something in Edarik's head clicked. He sensed the source of the voice was to his left, and about thirty feet into the treeline. Yes, he could nearly see them in his mind. It was as if something was directing his senses.

Perhaps my will isn't fully my own. he thought dryly. Perhaps I'm someone's puppet after all.

"I can tell you're over there in the trees. Will you not face me? I have many questions and I'm sure you have the answers I seek. Please, come out."

More to come. I'll edit into this post. It was almost twice this length, however I realized that I didn't like the direction I was taking it in and got rid of a chunk of it. We'll see what tomorrow brings.
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