This was the first chapter I had written for Saljourn. The traditional lore for DKs is that their minds were freed via the events at Light’s Hope chapel, or that they are willing converts at the hand of Bolvar Fordragon. I wondered about the Death Knight NPCs players fight throughout WOTLK and in Naxxramus, and how the death of Arthas might have affected them.
Would they not also be free from the Lichking’s control? And were all Death Knights localized in Northrend at the moment he passed?
Another quirk with Saljourn is his memory. In roleplay, many DKs will recall their actions while they were Scourge, but not where they come from or their own history before their dark rebirth. With Saljourn, I did just the opposite. The time between his own death and his release from Arthas’ control seemed to Saljourn to be a blink of an eye. That makes the most sense, if you consider your own perception of time while sleeping.
Finally, the encounter between the Human and Saljourn below leaves a lot of room for questions. Did the man know Saljourn had become conscious? If so, does that mean he also understood the Death Knights were not necessarily willing participants? How did he know this? Did Saljourn understand him when he spoke?
I didn’t expand on any of those details mostly because they didn’t further the plot. What was important was the Human could read Saljourn’s body language and was compassionate enough, even in his last moments, to forgive him.
Thank you for following along, and please enjoy the chapter. Again, I do not take any credit for these artist’s work, but thank them for giving me the motivation to create something.
Finally, If you have questions, or advice I would love to hear from you! But for now, please enjoy.
Chronicles of Deepriver
Chapter IV - The Nightmare Begins
It was not until Arthas’ fall that Sal’Journ was freed from the master’s will. As if waking from a restless night, Sal’Journ’s first glimpse of his new world was the anguished face of the Human impaled with his great Runeblade, Clapperclaw.
As carefully as he knew how, Sal’Journ lowered the man back to the ground and drew the blade from the body. Sal’Journ’s grief mounted as the man coughed and gasped in agony. Kneeling at the Human’s side cradling his head, Sal’Journ’s chest heaved with sorrow.
The man looked into Sal’Journ’s Lichfire eyes and noticed there was a newfound awareness about the Death Knight. Seeing Sal’Journ look up and down his body in despair, the man managed a smile and placed his hand comfortingly on the Death Knight’s.
“Don’t blame yourself,” the man coughed knowingly. With that, his eyes closed as the last breath escaped.
Struggling to remember how this had happened, Sal’Journ realized he was not alone. Looking up, he saw a crowd of Humans staring in stark terror and confusion at the spectacle. An out of sight woman sobbed amongst the people of the small village, while others visibly trembled. Two children burst from the front line of those watching and rushed to the man’s lifeless body.
“Father!” they cried.
Sal’Journ stood quickly, making most of the onlookers scream and back away. His height towered over them, rain pouring across his form. The brightness of his eyes pierced through the veil of his mane which draped over his face.
Unable to think of something else to say, Sal’Journ spoke.
“I am sorry,” he said in Taur-ahe. His own disembodied voice was foreign to him. Sal’Journ instinctively retrieved Clapperclaw and departed, pushing his way passed the stagnant army of undead behind him, leaving the desecrated village and its people to mourn.