Dreams of a former reality
Posted: Sat Jan 21, 2012 4:01 pm
Knithawk gave in, and collapsed from exhaustion. After being awake for the last few weeks his rotting carcass was no longer functioning right. He had tried everything he could to keep himself awake. Crafting new elixirs, gathering herbs, even cooking food that he normally eats raw. He had learned all kinds of new recipes. Anything, to keep himself awake.
When the forsaken was first awakened to this new life, he had no memory of his former life. Nothing. If it weren't for his trainer Isabella in Deathknell, or even Ashenfury for taking the undead under his wing, Knithawk would have more than likely fallen into the labor camps in Arathi Basin, working with a pick axe the rest of eternity. However, these two saw something in the forsaken. It was even Isabellas' Sarcastic ego that gave him his name. He fell right in place with the Horde and eventually, The Grim, never thinking twice about his past life. The dreams would change that. They started the night Ugratz dressed up like Father Winter and gave him a strange gift. It was a heart of darkness. He didn't know what it was for but decided to hang on to it just in case.
Knithawk laid on the floor unconscious. A lavender light began pulsating from his bags. As reality faded, the dreamworld set in. A demon towered over the mage. "This is what you left behind Merik!" The demon exclaimed. "Your pain fuels my Ego! NOW SUFFER!"
Knithawks surroundings then changed with the blink of an eye. He was in the middle of Stormwind. Surrounded by humans. Instinctively he attempted to cast a ring of frost but nothing happened. The humans went about their business as if the mage was not even there. Knithawk began to wonder what was happening when a little girl carrying a basket of white daisies skipping down the road caught his eye. "Yithie!" he yelled. It was all coming back now! This was his baby girl! "Yithieeee!" he cried but no one heard him. Scowling, he followed the little girl into a little town home where she disappeared behind the door. He approached the window peering inside to see his little girls' basket of daises fly across the room, followed by an empty bottle of ale. Yithie squealed as a heavily armored man grasped her by her arm, then backhanded her across the face. "Shut up and get in daddy's bed!" the man exclaimed.
With rage, Knithawk attempted to enter the home but he couldn't. It was as if he was shackled. The man followed the terrified girl into the bedroom as the dreamworld faded into darkness, lit now only by lavender light flickering in and out.
Knithawk laid on the floor of the guild hall unconscious. The pulsating light from his bag had now stopped.
When the forsaken was first awakened to this new life, he had no memory of his former life. Nothing. If it weren't for his trainer Isabella in Deathknell, or even Ashenfury for taking the undead under his wing, Knithawk would have more than likely fallen into the labor camps in Arathi Basin, working with a pick axe the rest of eternity. However, these two saw something in the forsaken. It was even Isabellas' Sarcastic ego that gave him his name. He fell right in place with the Horde and eventually, The Grim, never thinking twice about his past life. The dreams would change that. They started the night Ugratz dressed up like Father Winter and gave him a strange gift. It was a heart of darkness. He didn't know what it was for but decided to hang on to it just in case.
Knithawk laid on the floor unconscious. A lavender light began pulsating from his bags. As reality faded, the dreamworld set in. A demon towered over the mage. "This is what you left behind Merik!" The demon exclaimed. "Your pain fuels my Ego! NOW SUFFER!"
Knithawks surroundings then changed with the blink of an eye. He was in the middle of Stormwind. Surrounded by humans. Instinctively he attempted to cast a ring of frost but nothing happened. The humans went about their business as if the mage was not even there. Knithawk began to wonder what was happening when a little girl carrying a basket of white daisies skipping down the road caught his eye. "Yithie!" he yelled. It was all coming back now! This was his baby girl! "Yithieeee!" he cried but no one heard him. Scowling, he followed the little girl into a little town home where she disappeared behind the door. He approached the window peering inside to see his little girls' basket of daises fly across the room, followed by an empty bottle of ale. Yithie squealed as a heavily armored man grasped her by her arm, then backhanded her across the face. "Shut up and get in daddy's bed!" the man exclaimed.
With rage, Knithawk attempted to enter the home but he couldn't. It was as if he was shackled. The man followed the terrified girl into the bedroom as the dreamworld faded into darkness, lit now only by lavender light flickering in and out.
Knithawk laid on the floor of the guild hall unconscious. The pulsating light from his bag had now stopped.