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Post by sulaweyo on Apr 9, 2006 9:06:55 GMT -5
"I was once the head butler for king Terenas. I think did my job well enough, I never got any complaints from the King, or his son Arthas. I remember it quite vividly, the castle was in a festive mood for the return of Prince Arthas. I was preparing the rest of the waitstaff for the feast..... and then as I was getting ready to bring King Terenas his morning tea and apprise him of anything important that may have happened while he slept, I heard the most horrible screams....... Rushing into the good King's throne room, I beheld the most horrifying sight ever to grace these old eyes of mine. The prince had run King Terenas through with a massive sword!
I remained silent through the whole ordeal. As prince Arthas strode from the room he ordered a ghoul squad into the castle. the guards fought valiantly, but those *things* just kept coming. I was one of the last to die, having fled to the kitchens to help evacuate the staff.
I believe my last words were something to the effect of
"NOT THE FACE, NOT THE FACE!"
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Post by sulaweyo on Apr 9, 2006 9:33:14 GMT -5
I awoke on a slab, a necromancer hovering over me.
The necromancer herself looked a bit odd..... almost dead. As I talked to her i discovered that she was, in fact, quite dead......... as was I apparently. She explained that I was to serve the Dark Lady Sylvanas, apparently she had splintered from Arthas' undead army a few weeks ago. As i got used to the new existance I was given i noticed that noone was really in need of a butler. I sought out the mage trainer Verka, who had apparently been the necromancer who revived me. She said that Intellect to spare, just not the concentration needed for elemental casting that true mages practice. Verka reffered me to a Warlock master..... he was, to say the least a bit *touched* he was also the most brilliant warlock that sylvanas had....... he was also so paranoid that nobody knew his name. My training went quite well, I channeled my rage and despair into the dark arcane energies needed to be a warlock. The time came for me to bend an imp to my will. I submerged myself into the twisting nether.... and the first thing I heard were the wails and cries of what sounded like a child, I willed myself to the source of the sounds and beheld a sight that seemed unreal. A
small imp was wailing and moaning in the ether before me "what is the problem, imp?" I asked(for i have always been willing to associate with other races). he replied"i have been cast out of the burning legion, they say I'm too weak to be of any use to them!" I saw a chance that was not to be missed: I would gain an ally, and i wouldn't have to bend it to my will, I would merely have to show it kindness. " if you wish it, imp, I will be your friend, if you hate the legion as much as I do, I think we have much in common" and so it was that I found the old adage to be true "the enemy of my enemy is my friend".........
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