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Beltharean

12-06-2010, 11:07 PM
The Act of Contrition

I am heartily sorry for
Having offended Thee,
And I detest all my sins,
Because I dread the loss of heaven,
And the pains of hell;
But most of all because
They offend Thee, my God,
Who are all good and
Deserving of all my love.


[Image: Deathknight_by_Benlo.jpg]

O my God,
I firmly resolve,
With the help of Thy grace
To confess my sins,
To do penance
And to amend my life.

Amen.


--Reverend James Gibbons


Abel's thick plate boots landed with a ‘thud' after each step, kicking up a small cloud of ash. The black shadow that was lifted up time and time again would settle a moment later, the only sign that the death knight had ever been there being the crushed grass he would leave behind. ’Such a distant memory...' Abel thought, recalling how he had aided in the burning of Havenshire. His runic gaze moved from the ground to scour the plagued land, moving from home to home; Farm to farm.

Eventually he found what he was looking for; A mostly intact house, the only scars of the Ebon Blade's assault being several broken windows, a fallen chimney, and one burnt down room. Not a lot, considering the carnage the Scourge had caused. Abel strode over to the door, ash still kicking up behind his massive plated legs.

Metal on metal resounded as the man's gauntlets grasped the doorknob. It wouldn't be loud in any other circumstances, but Abel's heart pumped faster as the clank touched his ears. With a slow push, the knight stepped into the small house.

An overturned table lay in front of him in what would be the living room. Next to the table was the remnants of a large comfortable chair, the back would be facing Abel if it was not cleaved in half. Each part lay on one side, blood soaked deep into the fabric. Laying just next to each half of the chair would be half of a human skeleton to accompany it. It was a near perfect slice down the middle, but having been Abel's first kill, he accidentally favored the right side, leaving the skeleton's left half a bit larger.

He stared at it for what could have been hours, not really sure himself. He played the event over in his head time and time again as he stood there, the occasional gust of wind stirring ash up off the ground and into the room. It was an eery sight, the black cloud of long lost bone, flesh, wood... Bursting into the room from behind the silhouette of a dark warrior, bright blue eyes accenting his gaunt dark-skinned face. The sole light aside from the setting sun would be snuffed out as Abel recalled the event once more...


Spoiler:
Screams echo out across the fields of Havenshire as a single death knight of the scourge strides out across the battlefield. Abel's gaze moves across the landscape, spotting a single house with a fire obviously burning by the flickering of light playing across the window. He strode toward it, setting his hand on the knob. With a slow push, he simultaneously draws his sword.

As the door swings open, he looks in front of him to see a young man, no older than twenty-five, sitting in a large chair. The back faces the death knight, the only thing visible of the young man is his well maintained blonde hair, which flows down to his shoulders. Abel watches the young man as he prays, deciding that it wouldn't be in direct violation of his master's orders to listen and let the man finish before his life ends.

The boy keeps his eyes closed as he hears the man stop. He doesn't beg, doesn't plead, simply prays, “O light, that hast doomed all men to die, and hast concealed from all the hour of their death, grant that I may pass my days in the practice of holiness and justice, and that I may be made worthy to quit this world in the peace of a good conscience, and in the embrace of Thy love, through High Abbot Landgren, our guide and savior. Ame-”. The man's prayer is finally cut off before he can finish with 'Amen'. Abel's sword swings down through the air, slicing through man and chair alike, down through his skull, into his chest, finally stopping once it slams into the floorboards with a dull thud. Blood sprays onto the death knight nearly akin to a fountain at first, but quickly dies down into a stream as it pools at his feet.

Abel opened his eyes once again, letting the blue light wash over his face. Almost like a machine, he stepped past the skeleton, looking at what the table held before he had toppled it, checking for anything the Lich King may have found valuable. Nothing stood out now, aside from a journal he had opened, before tossing it back on the ground what felt like lifetimes ago.

He picked it up once more, and began to read...

Beltharean

12-07-2010, 08:41 PM
Spoiler:
”This journal, as I see it, is a divine tool of the light. On the way home from my cell at the church, I felt something deep within tell me to stop in front of a merchant's stand. He was selling these blank books, speaking of how if one can not confide with their friends and family, a journal may be the best tool.

Seeing as how I have no family to confide in any longer, I promptly bought one.

Now that I look out from my window, over the hill tops, I feel that my choice in stopping was correct; Something is coming. I'm not sure what it is yet, maybe I should bring it up with one of the abbots... It's probably just another passing thought however. There's always something just beyond those hills, straight from a nightmare. The Scourge are everywhere in these plagued lands, yet we're protected by these blessed mountains. I hope the Scourge does not get past their holy tops, into our home. “

Abel's eyes scan the journal page, soaking in the information. He knew now that the priest was correct in thinking that the Scourge would soon fall upon Havenshire like a volley of arrows. That fire and plague would consume the very air it's self in his home. Shaking his head, the Death Knight moved his glowing blue eyes back down to the book, flipping to the next entry.

Spoiler:
”I wrote a new prayer today...

We are surrounded on all sides
by Darkness.
But also by the light.
One can not live without the other,
for even the moon shines bright,
in the night.
As the fallen arise,
and close in around us...
I fear no evil,
for the light is with me.

... I feel I am getting better. Speech giving and poetry were never a strong suit of mine, but I do believe the light can help guide me to touching the hearts of the people in New Avalon and Tyr's Hand.”

Abel's eyes lingered on the prayer, even as he flipped the page again.

Spoiler:
”My fears were well founded... Today, from over the tops of the holy mountains, our sole protectors, a necropolis has arrived. I can feel the essence of death radiating from it even here, I fear the end may come soon.

From the sky, the darkness comes,
ready to plant the seeds of death.
The soil of our farms,
would be the perfect place...
If not for the holy light.

With it as our guide,
the crusade shall never fail.
Never falter.
We will prevail,
to see the clouds part;
For the sun's shining light,
will smite this necropolis from the sky.

Another prayer, one I hope comes to fruition. All my faith is not behind it however... I fear that this Scourge menace may finally be the end of us. Doom seems imminent now, for we do not hold the power to drop such a massive construct... Divine intervention is the only plausible means I can see.”

The Knight flipped the page once more.

Spoiler:
”There was a short attack by the necropolis today... More of a scouting party, than anything. I have decided to stay here with the counter attack group, to aid with any injuries. If this is how the attacks will continue however, my former judgement on our high possibility to fail was a misjudgment.

The feeling in my gut still persists however...”

Abel looked down to the skeleton next to him, and then the book. He found it strange, seeing the person who had written this account there, next to him. He may not have been alive then, but it was still an interesting thought. He turned the page.

Spoiler:
”The full might of the necropolis is now upon us. The Scourge's Death Knights keep coming, like a river of terror. They never seem to end, more and more flowing down from their floating keep. I can see from the window that they steal the horses from the stables, taking them back to their ground base for what is no doubt some malevolent purpose. They- *The writing becomes a bit shaky for a moment, before steadying out* They're slaying the women and children without remorse, cutting down the armed and unarmed alike.

Our priests are doing the best that they can to heal the wounded, and hold off the damned, but the Scourge push onward. The only thing I can do now, is pray. Pray that the Light guide my soul through the Nether safely, for I know one of these knights will be upon me next.”

An armored hand flipped to the next page, revealing that it was blank. The man had only gotten five entries in before he was struck down. The death knight shut the book, before going about gathering the young man's bones...

• • •


Sweat dripped down Abel's brow as the shovel in his hands pushed down into the deep grave he was digging. Shovelful after shovelful of dirt was brought out from the ground, finding it's spot just next to the ditch. The bones of the unnamed priest who's journal was now in Abel's possession lay some several feet away, opposite the side of the grave Abel was placing the dirt.

With a final pull the death knight hoisted himself from the grave, setting the shovel down and grabbing his rune-blade. He quickly cast a frost spell over himself to halt the sweat now flowing freely. Abel strode to the remains of the man, pulling the bones out. He tossed them down into the grave one by one, muttering a long prayer as he did.

When the deed was finally over, Abel took the journal from the bag at his side, looking it over. He contemplated tossing it in with the priest's remains, but dashed the idea a moment later. The priest had no need for it now, but Abel still needed a reminder for his past deeds. The ones he committed while under the influence of the Lich King. Just because the light was guiding him then, to what he was now, did not justify the deaths of so many.

With that, Abel pushed the journal back into his pack, beginning to shovel the earth back into it's rightful place. It was interesting to him, that even after all the things he had been through, and all the things he was going to go through... Abel was still a fossor at heart.
Conquest of the Horde > Shards > World of Warcraft > [WoW] In-Character Forum > The Act of Contrition