Insanity, every man's dream.

[Vind101]

(This post is for my character Larak Irase. This storyline starts nine years before present date. It will slowly lead up to when he leaves Stormwind.)

Insanity



Larak sat in the room of his house, that he had been living in for twenty years now. Everyday he was deprived of food, sleep, and socialization. Everyday his father would come in, either enraged, or simply wanting to hurt something. Larak was always there when this happened his father would come home and beat him with his cane. This day in particular Larak had just finished reading and memorizing the last book his father owned. He grinned as he knew he could now do what he had been planning to do. He pondered over the choice, knowing if he did what he saught to do. He could become wanted. He sat there, gritting his teeth, head shaking as he mumbled to himself. His father walked in, ignoring Larak he went into his bedroom and slammed the door.

Larak was slightly confused, but before he could act upon this confusion he heard screams outside. He took his cane and slowly walked outside. Being blinded by the sun he stumbled back into the house. He gripped ahold of his hood and pulled it over his eyes so he could see. He looked outside once again, standing with the support of his cane. People were running screaming that the orcs were invading. By the time Larak realized what was going on he was tossed inside by his mother. He mother glared at him as he lied on the floor. Trying to stand back up, she kicked him and walked into the room his father was in. Larak now could do his plan.

He approached the door and began mumbled to himself, before both of his hands were engulfed in a fel green flame. He shot the flame at the door and quickly the room caught on fire. Screams could be heard as this happened. His father busted out of the room, falling down lifelessly from the flames. Larak packed up all the books and supplies he could as he made his way out. He made it into Lakeshire as a gaurd stopped him and asked him where his parents were. Larak said the orcs had already destroyed their home. Larak was sure even the orcs would be confused of the fel fire house, but he managed to get a steed and ride to Stormwind. Stopping in Elwynn to camp, he was on the verge of starvation. He managed to kill a wolf to survive for the night. Having it cooked when he shot flames at it.

Larak arrived in Goldshire the next day. Stopping at the inn for some supplies. People stared at him as he made his way threw the tavern. A glare stamped onto his face as he eyed the tavern patrons. After a few momments of conversing with the innkeeper he left with his supplies. He then headed to Stormwind, upon arriving Larak pulled down his hood, from a request of the gaurd. The gaurd was greeted with Larak's pale, bony face. Larak was blinded by the sun once again, but managed to get inside the city thanks to his steed. After some hours of looking through Stormwind for a place to sleep.

Larak slumped down near the canal when it was picth black. He peered into the darkness as he began to eat some bread he had gotton at Goldshire. His insomnia making him go insane, aswell as his insanity adding to that fact. He wanted to burn down this city, for the darkness and silence drove him mad. Months had past from his time in Redridge. He had became aquainted with the street life, his tall frame gave off the look of an imposing man. Which kept most thugs from him, if that wouldn't work he would give off the appearance of being a mage. Showing off flames and such, to scare his attacker.

Six months had past when Larak gripped ahold of a small notepad and a pencil. He began writing.

I now.... have something I can write my thoughts in. I have been needing to get these thoughts out, for they are clouding my mind. This city... drives me mad. The air these people breath, should fade from existance. I would stand there watching the children... plead as their mothers fell to the ground. Gasping for air, I would grin at them and walk off. Letting their life grow, then striking them down. I hate... I want everything to be destroyed. My height some people would call... a gift... I call it hell... My father always had to peer up at me. I know... that was not my true family...

Larak stoped abruptly, into a coughing spasm. He passed out from not eating for a week, for he had been memorizing a new book, he had checked out from the libary. A paladin stood over him when Larak's eyes opened. The paladin's name was Brother Teranis Laristar. The warm and hearty smiled greeted Larak as he glared up at him. The paladin had saved his life, and allowed Larak to walk off without a word. It always confused him that he did not stop him.

[Vind101]

No sleep... no dreams...

Larak sat in the canal everyday. Going weeks without eating, sleeping. Or even walking. Larak always sat in the same spot of the Canal everyday. Using a latern as he found as a light so he could read during the night. His dry lips and mouth, would mumble words as he began reading through the books, and memorizing them. It had beed a year sense he had left Redridge. He became curious of his family's origin, so he saught out someone to find out his family's past. It turns out the name Irase was not in any records. It's like they never excisted. Larak couldn't help, but grin. Knowing his plan worked better than expected.

Larak sat in the pitch black darkness. The silence was broken from Larak's mumbling as he gripped ahold of his notepad and began writing.

I have had another dream... this time of being engulfed in the flames of my house... The fel fire burning into my skin... making a permanent reminder of my sins. I can't help, but laugh knowing that would be paradise. Sleeping was and always will be a forced chore upon me. I will constantly try to avoid it, but I will have to force myself to do it occasionaly. Just like eating... and drinking. They are essentials that feel like accesories. At times I dream of blood pooring from my eyes... my hands going to the bone... Sleep is only a nightmare...

Larak stood up in the darkness, holding the lantern in his bony hand. Slowly making his way to the water. He grit his teeth as he jumped in. Immediatly upon jumping in he awoke. Realizing it was all a dream, it turns out Larak was standing in the middle of the libary, passed out asleep. Larak sighed and checked his notebook, his eyes widening as he saw the note he wrote. It turns out when Larak finished the note, he passed out and began sleep walking to the libary. He cursed under his breath as he checked out some more books. He slowly made his way past the Cathedral, books piled in one hand. The other held his cane, as he slowly walked. The paladin that had saved him spotted Larak and approached him. Larak stopped abruptly as the paladin stood before him.

The hearty and slightly tall man stood before Larak. Still having to peer up at Larak, the paladin smiled at him and questioned his living environment. After about an hour of conversing Teranis sparred Larak enough money to buy a house. Larak did not give thanks, but was amused of the selflessness of the man. After months of getting used to living in the house and being able to sleep. Larak still ignore sleeping, adjusting his house to the way he saw fit. It wasn't to extravagent, but it wasn't to poor aswell. Larak sat on his desk, his bony hands flipping through a book of his own make. The book contained Larak's daily thoughts. If one was to aquire such book, Larak would most likely be titled as a madman.

Larak sat on his desk as he peered down at the book. His bony hands grasping his cane as he pushed himself up. He walked over to his bed and slumped down. Book in hand he began reading to himself, before passing out. Larak slept for two days until awakening. He was greeted with the smell of bruning flesh. Larak hissed at the smell, before peering down at the smoke. His hand had been scorched in his own flames. Sleeping had caused him pain once again. He ignore it and allowed it to heal by itself. Everyday memorizing and studying every book of shadow magic, walockery, and legends of the warlocks. Larak found great interest in the first warlock to come to Azeroth.

Gul'dan was Larak's idol. He imagined him and Gul'dan destroying all of humanity, before Larak turned on him and gained his power. He grinned his toothy grin as he pondered over the thought. The thought soon became a dream, the dream soon became a fantasy. Soon enough Larak knew he would need a place to practice his skills. Larak sighed knowing he would not be able to do so inside the city. He held off the training and kept to studying. Which surprising helped, but left huge gaps in his knowledge. Larak knew sooner or later those gaps would soon become whole, and consume him.

It had now been almost two years. Sleep was not an option for Larak. He had been staying up for an uncounted number of days, weeks, or even months. He suffered under a serious case of insomnia, but he was very used to it. Having grown up with the illness. Larak needed a way to substitute sleep, he did so by drinking his potion he had made. The potion contained supplements that gave Larak energy. He had to take these vails bery often to stay awake. The draw backs were, dramatic energy loss after it wears off, and jittering.

[Vind101]

Training... A hellish curse.

Larak sat in his dimly lit room. Papers scattered around his poorly kept room. Many books layed upon the ground, a cold scratchy voice cold be heard in the room. The sound of Larak mumbling to himself, memorizing every word, every sentence. That he thought, read, or heard. Seeming to study everything he could, not wanting to let anything slip past his gaze. He continued to read through the books that layed before him. For a breif momment, he did not understand the feeling that had came upon him. It felt like he was being removed from this world.

For a breif momment his eyes rolled back in his head, drool dripped down his cheek. Before he shook his head and awoke, he quickly ate some old, dry bread, and drank a vial of his elixir. He knew if he slept, it would be his doom. Larak fought against himself, at the urge to burn everything in his path. Setting Stormwind ablaze in a fel fire. It would have to wait, he thought to himself. The first thing on his list was to find a place which he could train. It had become a hellish thought that pierced his thoughts. Making him unable to study with a clear mind.

He constantly went over ever place he knew in Stormwind. Constantly trying to find a way to train, sooner or later he would find a way. Larak sighed as he realized that he would not be able to, though he put himself on a daily routine. Perfecting his shadow bolt, he constantly summoned it within' his palm. Making it grow until Larak would not have the energy to withold it. Constantly he wondered what his power was capable of. He was not a man to boast, nor to think more of himself than he is. He knew there were flaws in his attacks, but he could not fix them.

Larak was now Twenty-three, he had been living in Storwind for three years now. He still couldn't find a reason to leave, even though he saught one. A year ago he had heard rumors of the third war begining. It didn't phase him, for he knew that he couldn't participate in the massacare, but he did study as much as he could of the scourge's advances. Finding great interest in the way their dark magic brought the dead back to life. To serve them. He grinned at the thought of having that power, but knew it would be nearly immpossible. For now Larak would have to worry about surviving on the weak food sources he had.

Larak sat on a chair beside his desk. He had fallen asleep, his forehead on the table that lied infront of him. He abruptly awoke as his hand was engulped in shadow magic. He paniced as he felt his life fade before him, but managed to take control. He made multiple vials of his elixir to keep him awake. He would take ten to twenty vials a day. It had become an addiction, but Larak saw it too useful to stop. He continued to study, his pupiles fully dialated as he scimmed through the pages of his books. He would scribble down notes as he wrote.

He would occasionally pass out for a breif momment, from his heart beat going to fast. Larak constantly had near death experiences, but he treasured every momment of them. Wanting to die in a sense, wanting to leave this hell he though. But he sighed knowing he wanted everything before him to burn, in a hellish fire. That would make him at peace, and accept death. There would be no other way, he thought. No matter how hard he tried to think of his reason on Azeroth, it would always come down to wanting every living being to fall down, dead.

[Vind101]

A twin's... Curse.

Larak lied sleeping in his bed. The sound of rain broke through the silence. Larak tossed and turned in his sleep. His dream tearing him apart. Larak was dreaming of standing in an open field, tons of men heavily armored stared out across the field. Across from them was an army, not of orc or dead, but of humans. Larak stood, peering at the seperate army, realising he was watching a civil war. He took a breath in, startled as he looks down at his armor. He was wearing a Stormwind uniform, his tall stature was matched with imposing muscles. He felt his face, groomed and grizzled it was. He soon realized it was a dream, but found much interest in what his mind had made.

Larak's true family was of Laveas, the men of the family are large burly warriors. With many imposing traits, most went out to war. Some fought for a living, Larak had been deprived of living a warrior life. His dream continued as the men around him begin to charge, he had no choice but to meet their charge. His strong stature and physic was new to him. The dream felt so realistic that Larak had expected it to abruptly end. As the army charged arrows flew across the field. Landing several killing blows on the men around him. Larak clashed into the enemy lines, feeling strange on how he did not crumble against their will, rather break down many enemys before him. Soon enough a blade peirced his chest. He abruptly woke, swet covered his body, veins tensed up.

The rest of the day he sat, not moving. Occasionally coughing, he was extremely intrigued on the feeling of strength, that his dream provided. The dream peirced his mind, not allowing him to think of anything else. Larak knew one day, he would seek out his origins. Knowing that the family he was forced to grow up with, was not his blood. Suddenly Larak grinned, he slowly rised and begin to study. For weeks Larak went without sleep yet again, until his head clashed against his desk. Larak had went to long without sleep. His dream was of the same category. The dream began with Larak peering down at a table, his gaze slowly turned to the woman sitting before him. His arms were covered in battle scars. He could feel a peircing pain in his chest, yet before he could act upon the pain. The woman began to speak. She seemed of a woman of importance to him, strangely enough. Larak continued to try to fight through the dream, but seemed to be peirced into this body, or rather character his mind had made up.

His personality in the dream world was different, which startled him. Not being able to say what he usually would. Months these dreams continued to come, seeming to branch together. Soon enough Larak was consumed with the character his mind made up. Even in the real world, Larak would write storys and such of the character. Creating roles for him, memorizing lines for the man he would soon have to play. He would go weeks without sleeping, until passing out. The lines and scenarios he made would come into play through his mind. Larak had not known everytime he would sleep, he would go days without waking. He awoke one night while dreaming, he began to cough up blood. Abruptly a thought peirced through his mind. He had not eaten in weeks. He was surprised on how he was still alive, but knew if he did not eat soon. His life would fade from his body.

After eating and finally controlling his sleeping schedule, soon his dreams would leave him. He always had the thought of the character that was played in his mind many times. He always wrote books, occasionally continuing where his dreams left off, but stopped as fast as it started. Continuing his studies, he would try his hardest not to gain a split personality. For he knew he was not a large, burly warrior. With imposing traits, he pondered over the though of having a brother with the same traits of the character his mind had made, but his studies stopped him from putting to much time into the thought.