Rude Awakening

[Ironpanda]

So a WHILE back ago, I started working on a sort of novelization of starting off as a Forsaken. Decided I might as well share it. I might even continue it if anyone is interested, we'll see. In either case. Here it is!


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Fire raged throughout the city. The noises of battle clambered on, as well as screams of pain and terror. The undead swarmed through the city of Stratholme. A young man, maybe around the age of nineteen ran through the streets, avoiding patrols of zombies and skeletons. He had to get to the other side. Had to get away or they would take him like they’d taken the others. He’d heard the army was on the other side though. If he could just make it.
Something slammed into him, sending him sprawling. He barely had time to react before a rotting, undead face snapped at him, trying to rip into his throat. He held his arms up, feeling the teeth tear into them as he defended himself. The ghoul thrashed hard for its prey, but the boy kicked hard, pushing it off of him just enough to allow him to grab a knife. As the monster lunged again, he thrust forward. The ghoul let out a gurgled screech as the knife pushed its way into the ghoul’s mouth. He pushed the ghoul over so he was sitting on its chest and brought the knife down again and again. The ghoul continued to thrash for a moment but after the fifth stab it finally relaxed.
The boy started running again. He turned a corner into an alley and saw them. A group of footmen running towards him, with a pair of dwarves armed with rifles tailing behind. He let out a triumphant cry. He wasn’t going to die today. He was saved. He-..
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by pain worse than he’d ever imagined hit his back. All the way through to his chest. He looked down, seeing the massive, bloody hook sticking out. His blood. A deep, bellowing laughter came from behind him and he turned in time to see the massive creature that had thrown the hook. A giant, three armed, bloated thing that looked like a mockery of a man. Sewn together from who knows how many bodies, with a big, gaping hole in it’s stomach, it’s intestines exposed for all to see.
The monster tugged the chain it was holding, and the boy flew back. And then darkness took over. Vague images appeared every now and then. All of them nightmares. A swarm of zombies tearing people apart. Women, children. Soldiers, even animals. But these brief flashes were but flashes in an eternal darkness. Then his eyes shot open as he gasped, air filling his lungs. But the feeling of it was distant. Like a memory. His vision was blurry, but it cleared fast, and the nothingness was gone. Replaced with a stone room. A crypt? He sat up, and before him stood a man.
No, not a man. This man was dead. His face sunken and one of his cheeks had even rotted away, revealing yellow teeth. Yet he was standing there before him, grinning. “About time you woke up. We were ready to toss you in the fire with the others, but it looks like you made it.”
“Who..?” The boy tried to speak, but his voice surprised him. It was different. Raspy and hollow.
“I am Mordo, the caretaker of the crypt of Deathknell. And you are the Lich King’s slave no more.” The Lich King? Cold, blue eyes flashed in his head. Flaming like coals, and full of hatred. But his thoughts were interrupted as Mordo reached to grab his arm and pull him to his feet.
“I know how disorienting your… rebirth can be. Go to the chapel in Deathknell and speak with Shadow Priest Sarvis. He will tell you everything you need to know. The boy looked at Mordo for a second, not sure what to do and the zombie pointed towards the stairs and nodded. So he went. Climbing the old stone steps until he reached the top. Rain poured down on a poor, untended graveyard. Many of the graves had been opened. And all the trees looked rotted and dead. Everything here did. As he walked down the road he saw figures above him. Large bats, almost the size of a man. He thought he should be afraid, but he wasn’t. He felt nothing. And felt nothing still as he found his way to the dilapidated town of Deathknell. He saw men and women, as he entered. All like Mordo. All dead, yet not. Was he like that too now? He supposed he must be. They looked at him but went about their business, except for one. This one wore a rusty chain shirt and pants, and had a sword at his belt.
“You must be newly arisen. Go to the chapel. Sarvis will help you.” The undead soldier motioned to the chapel across from them, and the boy nodded. He entered the chapel and looked around. The chapel was empty except for several robed undead, they seemed to be teaching small groups of individuals. The boy ignored the lessons going on and made his way to the back where one of the undead stood with an ornate staff. A red jewel seemingly floating in the center of an iron circle at the top of the staff. The undead holding it wore equally ornate, if not old and tattered red robes, with sleeves ripped and torn, revealing boney arms. The flesh completely stripped from them. He had a leather brace around his face, seemingly holding it together, despite the fact that he had no jaw.
His tongue hung out limply from his mouth. Another thing the boy noticed was that the man had no eyes. Just two black voids in his head where eyes used to be. He stood, seemingly talking with an undead woman, who was also wearing red robes. The priest noticed the boy and waved the woman away, who nodded and left to go about her business.
A voice filled the boy’s head. “Another of the walking dead, hm? Must have been quite a shock, waking up in that crypt with nothing but the cold and Mordo to greet you.” It took him a second but he quickly realized that the voice was the priest’s. He moved as he spoke, but the voice was clearly in his head.
“I see the confusion on your face. Let me try to explain our… situation… to you.” He chuckled coldly. “We have been freed from the control of the Lich King by our new leader, Lady Sylvanas. The Dark Lady guides us in our war against the hated Scourge and the holdouts of humanity who dog our every step. Tell me. Do you remember your previous life? Your name?”
The boy paused for a minute, thinking. “No.. I don’t. Only flashes.”
“It may come back to you someday. But that is not who you are anymore. You are Forsaken. Now and forever. I name you Garmick.”

[Mantigora]

Nice! Another writer here.

And I like it. I can definitely get into the feel of what you have been writing.
You write very visually, I could see the dreary graveyard en feel the rain, unabating.
Just to think of it: 19, and undead, forever...

Did you write more already, past this point? If so, you should put it up too.
What is your plan with it?
Do you want to continue? (Yes, please!)
Seeing that there were already many who have seen it, I think there will be more who have an interest.
So, keep it going!
and success!

Mantigora

[Xantros]

This brings me back to when I first made a serious attempt at an undead warlock.
Reading all the quests, I really got this sad, literally 'forsaken' feeling of the whole zone.
The way you describe Deathknell absolutely captures that decrepit feeling.

I'm really curious to see how you would show the undead that could not accept their fate or did not realize that they were undead (I think there was one in Brill for sure). And especially how Garmick will deal with his own fate.

I think you should continue if you enjoy it, whether people are interested in it or not, because I can see the potential in your writing. It makes me want to write again too. :)

[Ironpanda]

Wow, I appreciate it guys, really. Especially considering that was technically a first draft, and I never proof-read it. The next episode will have far fewer silly grammar mistakes =3

I had originally planned to do several of these for each starting zone, ending up with a main character from every race. (The orc and troll, gnome and dwarf would be a package deal), they'd all have their own adventures, make and lose their own friends and enemies occasionally running into each other out in the world until BC, in which the alliance group and the horde group would end up as parties. And finally the two groups would come to a head in the battle for Ice Crown. I DUNNO if I'll take it that far. But it'll be a fun project.

I haven't written more for Garmick yet. But I've got a few chapters for a few other characters I could post.

[Xantros]

I think it is a decent first draft. :) Only thing I can really point out is: Maybe you could break the text up more so it will be easier on the eyes. Sounds like a cool project with some great dramatic potential (making and losing friends).

I also have a story like that, for the human starting area, branching into Westfall, Deadmines, Stockades... with a party of all the alliance races. It ends there in my head for now. 80 pages and still in Northshire (-_- ) I'll start putting it up in the next few days. Come check it out if you are interested. Maybe it will make you happy and help you come up with unique ideas. :)

Also, I'm looking forward to reading about how all of these characters that you will establish, come together later in the story. I got a secret project that goes like that. 1 world, multiple little stories and the paths will cross. Can't wait to read yours. :)

[Ironpanda]

I've already started posting it in a different thread on this forum. Chronicles of Azeroth. And yeah, I've been breaking up the text more. That was more me just not being used to posting on forums, though. None of the paragraph indentions carried over from the original doc and I wasn't thinking about it when I posted, lol. Lesson learned though!

[Xantros]

Yeah I only saw it after I wrote my reply haha I will check it out. :)