A dark whisper (Kroul)

[Kroul]

Some whispers should never be uttered, some whispers should be drowned out by the sound of silence. Yet some whispers persist. This one begins with horror. When Arthas purged Lordaeron of all life as a tribute to Ner'zhul. One of the undead ravished a fleeing human before she escaped. In their perverted union, a child was born. A child born of hate, a child of conflict. A cursed child has its uses. When he was born, he was taken away by the dreadlords Varimathras, Detheroc and Balnazzar. In the crypts of Lordaeron hidden from the world, he was taught the ways of Sargeras. He mastered the arts of necromancy, preformed rituals of pain and of death, and peered into the twisting nether. He grew. At last he was ready, at last he was to be sacrificed. The dreadlords, performed their ritual of power, and slew him. But you cant destroy true evil. for he is embodiment of it. There he laid. Until Sylvaanas freeing herself from the Lich King, he wakes in crypt with his power gone, a memory fragmented. He walked out of the crypt the first time in many years, an imp is pointed to the castle of Lordaeron, where he heard the faint cry of the banshee. He starts to walk to the castle through the graveyard. On the first gravestone is a name.. K.Roul. He thinks that is a good a name as any other. And so he goes to out to regain his power, but to do that he must feed on souls of the living. Beware the cursed child, beware the child of death.