Ole’ Walter couldn’t complain, all things considered. He’d bought a home here with his earnings from the war back when the place was still called Grand Hamlet, back before the very woods were cursed. His wife had passed peacefully in Stormwind, thankfully, where things still usually staid dead. He’d buried more children than he’d raised but the one that survived now had two successful kids of her own. Dearest Alicia was some big shot magic type up in that floating wizard city and little Walter III was now a strong man off serving King and Country a world away. But he was awfully lonely, in truth. Nobody came to see the old man in this haunted hamlet, and he supposed he couldn’t blame them, but he was a stubborn goat of a man that refused to abandon the land he’d bought. That’s what made tonight so special.
Visits were a rare treat for Ole’ Walter and who should stop by out of the blue but Franzis, his old comrade from the war. So overjoyed was Ole’ Walter at this chance to reminisce about days of youth gone that he neglected to think all that critically. He neglected to question how Franzis had found him or why his eyes glowed a ghostly gold in the lantern light. If the old man had bothered to really think about it, he might have realized he never knew a Franzis in the first place. Not that it would’ve mattered. Walter’s visitor was a potent practitioner of mind manipulating magics. Any lingering questions would’ve been answered with a hasty memory edit. Thankfully however for Ole’ Walter, his guest had no malign intent.
In fact, all Benedikt felt for this man was sincere sympathy. It was evident enough from the decrepit nature of the yard that few people came calling and this senior’s attempt at cooking suggested it was a newer duty previously handled by someone recently gone. Such was why he humored him well past the point of necessity. Benedikt often did this, assumed a human-enough form and probed the locals to ensure the Night Watch had been holding up their end of the bargain. It was clear almost immediately that this man had no relevant information but he felt someone ought to spend time with the elderly war veteran. It’d been about two hours now and every time Benedikt attempted to leave the old man hastily changed topics and prolonged the visit. His patience with this act of kindness had begun to wither and eventually he forcefully declared he really had to be going.
“No, no, you musn’t go. It ain’t safe on these roads no more” Ole’ Walter pleaded.
“Oh I’m well aware Walt but this old dog still has some bite in him. I won’t let some angry corpse get the best of me.” Benedikt replied with a reaffirming pat on the shoulder.
“Afraid it’s worse than that these days. Guard found and killed some Warlock what was hiding in town. That weren’t wise, things here, they don’t stay dead for long – and sure enough that warlock’s been rising from the grave every night and terrorizing the town” confessed Ole’ Walter.
Benedikt reviewed TDC’s current operations in his head, considering if anything they were up to might be what the old timer was describing. He drew a blank. Curious, turns out Walter here did have some pertinent news. He’d have to investigate this report before sunrise. Tired of the incessant warnings Benedikt eventually put Walter under a sleep spell and left an unlabeled elixir of vitality on his kitchen table. Perhaps that’d give the man the energy to interact more with society or at least tidy up his yard.
He stepped into Duskwood’s cool night air and shifted into shadow shape before dispersing into a mist. He made his way down the road, occasionally stopping to blend in with the fog and whisper bewildering things to the Night Watch patrol for his own amusement. ‘Should I salt my mutton before boiling it?’ he breathed into one’s ear, which started a culinary debate amongst the vigilance. He continued his travel until he reached the truly colossal Raven’s Hill Cemetery. It spoke to the sheer size of the graveyard that both TDC and a dark magician had been sharing the real estate without ever noticing each other. He drifted amongst the tombstones until at last he saw the all too familiar crackle of pale, eldritch flame that was to a Necromancer what fel green was to Warlocks.
This fellow wasn’t undead, not yet at least, though Benedikt could see how the untrained eye could make the mistake. The Necromancer had the pallid flesh, lightless eyes and ebony preorbital puffery many a new Cultist of the Damned had attempted to recreate by putting black markers around their optics like mommy’s ‘lil maniac. He reassumed corporeal form and dispensed with any pretention of humanity.
“Goot evening!” Benedikt said, wandering up to the Necromancer.
“Ah, hello. You know I thought I noticed some more organized movement from the west crypt but I didn’t want to be a nosey neighbor.” replied the Necromancer.
“Vell consider zis me being neighborly zen” said Benedikt with a chuckle, “Thaddeus Wrathfang, pleasure to meet zoo sir…?” he asked giving a false name he felt was spooky enough.
“Brahm The Staker” replied the Necromancer as he looked up from his dark designs, “And I tell you that you’ve come on a particularly lovely evening. You see there’s a wedding I’ve to attend and I am in dire need of a plus one!”.
“Oh? Vell all things konsidered I am free for zee evening. Who’s zee lucky couple?” Benedikt inquired.
“Quite irrelevant. I’m nearly complete with my ritual. But I require some, special ingredients. This will be one of many steps and I do love company.” Brahm explained.
Benedikt shrugged, “Sure, vhy not, I vas getting terribly bored playing vith zese provincials”.
The two made off down the road into Westfall where both assumed more acceptable visages. The sound of revelry emanating from the outskirts of Moonbrook alerted them to their prey’s location. It was a true rural wedding. Everyone in attendance was in their best attire - that is to say the least damaged or stained cloth they owned - and grain alcohol flowed freely from a somewhat sanitized pig troth. The celebration was so jubilant that Benedikt suspected nobody would’ve noticed nor cared if they’d arrived in their true forms. Brahm ignored the party and began moving toward the newly married couple.
“Zoo know Brahm, vhy not enjoy ourselves hier? It’s not often ve get to drink at our victim’s expense” Benedikt said, taking advantage of free-flowing grain alcohol.
Brahm hesitated for a moment but eventually agreed. For a time they drank and danced, the wedding assembly indifferent to the identity of the strangers. Ultimately however Brahm grew bored and conjured baleful spirits to attack the party goers. The revelers were past the point of coherence and those that did not flee were quickly cut down. Brahm approached the newly wed couple and put them under a sleep spell before producing two vials and a ghastly dagger. He dug it into their palms and caught the blood that gushed forth in either vial. His mission evidently concluded he gestured Benedikt over as he began to leave the now massacred wedding.
“This will shuffice for the night” Brahm slurred, placing the vials within his robe. The living and their vulnerabilities to addictive chemicals.
“Zoo’ll have to forgive me I vas never zat skilled at bloot magic, vhat’s zee purpose of zat?” Benedikt inquired.
“Well, you shee” rambled Brahm, “tomorrow the survivors will find the couple in a slumber from which they will never awake without this blood. The suffering of all their beloved attempting to maintain the comatose couple will only strengthen my phylactery!” Brahm proudly declared.
“It’s mein understanding zat zose sings are not an easy sing to konstruct. Von’t zoo be needing more?” investigated Benedikt.
“Ha! Of course. But I’ve my plans. A couple is expecting a newborne in Redridge, I shall curse it with stillness and grow with their anguish. I’ll then visit this widower near Darkshire. I’ve already exhumed his wife, I’ll puppet her corpse and offer a reunion in exchange for his soul. The horror he’ll know when she falls limp and rots in his arms will be the exquisite centerpiece to my design” boasted Brahm.
“Vell I hate to be rude but I must ask vhat level of wrath this activity might bring down on our neighborhood” said Benedikt as the pair returned to Raven’s Hill Cemetary.
“That’s the glory of it. If these yokels attempt to murder me – snakes and worms and spiders will burst from my stomach, and bats will come from my head – so long as one survives, I’ll regenerate in time” said Brahm with a cackle as they walked to his grave.
“But I’m afraid I can’t have you sharing this information” Brahm added as they reached his lair, “I’m all for neighbors but I’m not for rivals” Brahm conlcluded, as he lunged at Benedikt with a wicked blade that bounced harmlessly off a shield of Holy Light.
The two danced for the remainder of the night. Again and again Brahm summoned cursed corpses from the ground and again Benedikt returned them to restful ash with a roar of Holy Light. Eventually the two became bereft of mana and began to fight as the lesser do with cursed iron glancing off blessed steel.
“WHAT! ARE! YOU!” yelled an exasperated Brahm.
“Bored.” Replied Benedikt as he threw the Necromancer into a tombstone with a shining force of Light.
Brahm lied unconscious in his grave as the sun finally rose upon the duel. Benedikt floated down and retrieved the two vials of blood. Resuming his disguise, he returned to the outskirts of Moonbrook and offered the cure to the bereaved still picking up the pieces from last night’s devastation. He then explained the weaknesses of their torturer and mapped his lair.
The mob turned up just before sunfall and built a great pyre. They tied Brahm upon it and began slicing at the burning corpse. As he’d predicted his body burst from top to bottom with all sort of unsightly creatures. The villagers did their best. They caught every rat, every spider, every serpent, every skittering beast that sprung from the Necromancer’s cooking corpse. But they missed five bats that fled for the safety of a nearby sepulcher. Benedikt was already waiting. With a wave of his hand he engulfed four in holy fire and caught the last with his claws.
“Zis fear zoo feel. Do zoo understand that’s what zey felt? All zee people zoo tormented?” he growled at the terrified bat he squeezed in his hand. It nodded.
“Zoo’re a talented man, Brahm. But a kruel und saughtless vone. Zoo vill spend zoor regeneration period vith me. Zoo vill see vhat good zoor powers kann do. If I feel as if zoo’ve learned a lesson, I vill free zoo. Unterstood?” hissed Benedikt at the Brahm bat, which once again nodded.
He released the bat which began to dutifully flutter behind him as he made his way into the depths of the crypt.