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"Rise, Champion of the Scourge. I have a new purpose for you."
The Lich King's words echoed through his brain, searing every corner of his conscious mind with pain, as it burned away flakes of memory and defiance. What little was left of his living soul writhed in pain, before he blacked out once more.
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He awoke in Acherus. Death. It surrounded him. Enveloped every bit of his vision. Weighed heavily upon his sense of smell. The taste of ash was in his mouth. Screams of agony filled the distant air.... and he was cold. A loud clash rang out beside him and his head jerked towards the source.
"Wake up, Maggot. Put these on." A large Skeletal Engineer motioned to the heap of armor laying on the floor. "Razuvious wants you. And tell him Corvus says that instead of having me forge brand new armor for every one of you pathetic, little experiments... try peeling the armor off the ones that die and re-use it. Like spoiled little children you all are... given my best armor the minute you're raised."
He stood up and looked around, Corvus walking away while muttering still, "You get armor? What did I get? Nothing. I don't even have a piece of rotted flesh left...." The former General began to adorn his new armor and cringed a bit. The Lich King's voice echoed through his mind again...
"All that I am: anger, cruelty, vengeance - I bestow upon you, my chosen knight. I have granted you immortality so that you may herald in a new, dark age for the Scourge.
Gaze now upon the lands below us. The Scarlet Crusade scurries to undo my work, while Light's Hope stands defiantly against us - a blemish upon these Plaguelands. They must all be shown the price of their defiance.
You will become my force of retribution. Where you tread, doom will follow. Go now and claim your destiny, death knight."
Falling to one knee he held his head, then shook it clear. He did as he was instructed. Upon forging of his weapon, he looked it over with a shake of his head. Something was wrong, he just couldn't place it. This... this wasn't his blade? No. It was. At least... it was now.
Highlord Mograine pulled him to the side and narrowed his eyes upon looking him over. "Another fallen from the Sin'Dorei. Great. Prance about in your own time, worm, you have work to do. While the others are to set ablaze to New Avalon, I have something else in mind for you. I want you to work with Razuvious. If I have to hear he and Corvus complain to one another about armor I will shatter them both to bone dust. If an initiate dies, remove his armor, burn the corpse, and deliver the armor to Corvus."
The General nodded faintly and moved away. It seemed like an eternity as he scavenged each of the fallen initiates for their armor. Tearing limbs off to remove the armor, picking sinew and flesh out of the grooves. The ichor of death filled his nostrils even more as each body was burned. Deep down it seemed rather inefficient to him. Why raise these individuals? Pitting them against one another? Nevermind... he realized. To examine this train of thought would ensure he wound up like the others.
The Battle of Light's Hope took place. Arthas's betrayal... and the cleansing of Ashbringer. The light struck him and caused a pain like none other in his eyes. He fell to the ground and covered them with an angered growl. He returned to his feet and cleared his head. The Highlord urged him to Acherus immediately to clense the remaining Scourge that overran the stronghold.
Once Acherus belonged to the Ebon Hold once more, the fallen general stood in the main chamber and looked over his hands once again.
"What is the matter with your eyes, Worm?" The Highlord's voice echoed as the man came to stand before him. "You see through things... as if they do not exist."
The fallen general turned his gaze to the Highlord... and through him. "I do not know, Highlord. In place of beings and objects, I see death and its embrace. All that radiates life and being, is a void. It is all dark. I cannot see light."
"...Kirindis Brightsworn. You were the fool Kael'thas commanded to intercept Arthas before he could reach Ner'zhul. You assisted in the capture of Magtheridon and the Black Citadel. I remember now. There were words muttered of a General whose eyes died long before his body amongst the Blood Elves. A Fool's Errand is what your 'prince' set you upon. Only to be raised by the Lich King. There is a certain irony to this fate... I am interested to see what you can do for the Ebon Blade. Now go, speak with Thrall. Work your way back into the Horde's allegiance with the others."
"As you wish, Highlord."
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