Chronicles of Deepriver
Chapter VIII - A Moment of Weakness
The Death Knight stood motionless. The sound of the breeze weaving through the folds of his cloak was all that could be heard, like a battle-standard wafting over the victims of a conflict.
For weeks Sal’Journ had traveled across the sea. To return home. To return to her. Lost, and unsure of what he would say. He starred ahead at the razed encampment before him. His Lichfire eyes drifting across the wreckage and ashes.
It was cloudy and likely to rain soon. The three rescued Sin’dorei sat huddled in the grass, petrified with fear. They clutched at each other as they watched the undead juggernaut survey his ruined home.
Sal’Journ’s gaze drifted towards the tanning rack. He remembered helping his Father fix the Kodo skins in place while his mother would bring them a meal. His gaze stopped. The body of a Tauren rested on the ground, half buried by debris. An extended arm clutched an inert Hearthstone.
Sal’Journ approached. Kneeling beside the body, Sal’Journ gently lifted the Hearthstone from his mother’s hand. The stone had been cut cleanly in half by a practiced blade. As he looked upon it, his Lichfire eyes squinted in absolute agony. Sal’Journ brought the stone to his forehead.
The Hearthstone’s beaded lanyard was intact and so he dawned the artifact around his neck. Rage slowly took hold.
Sal’Journ stood looking one last time at his mother’s body before turning to see a Dark Ranger suspended in midair. Her arms and legs were stretched outwardly to their limit as she fought against the necromantic powers binding her.
Elevated at Sal’Journ’s head level, they came face to face once he reached her. The Dark Ranger stopped fighting, regaining her composure in the presence of the old Deathguard. Sal’Journ did not say a word but waited.
“Traitor,” the Dark Ranger spat. “Did you not think there would be consequences? That we would not…find a way…” she continued, her voice stammering as the necromantic force holding her began to pull apart ever more slightly. The strain was unbearable.
Sal’Journ’s murderous gaze never faltered.
“Tell me where Windrunner has gone,” he growled. His otherworldly voice sent chills down the Dark Ranger’s spine.
Despite her circumstances, she managed a cruel smile.
“The Dark Lady is beyond even your reach, Lieutenant. She is ascended…” The Dark Ranger cut herself short with an ear shattering scream as the necromantic force dislocated a shoulder and a knee with a terrible pop. “You…will see her again…in Hell!” she gasped frantically.
Sal’Journ’s eyes narrowed. As lighting struck, the shadow of the Death Knight bearing over his slowly dismembered prize cloaked the three Sin’dorei. They stumbled to their feet as they ran for their lives. The screams of the Dark Ranger echoed across the plains, chasing the terrified trio as they fled into the stormy night.