The oath of the Bones
By John O’Hara
Written as Morrowsworn of Emerald Dream – US
A World of Warcraft story
These days, the young do not take their vows as a serious affair. They are all free to play, and carouse, but know not the things they are obligated to do. I know my path, in this plane of existence, and it is deep in me. Deeper than the soul, or the myths, legends, and stories of our kith and kin.
I was a lad once. I was carefree, ready to take on the world. Here in Gilneas, the world as I knew it was wide open, unto me. I could do as I would, being of noble lineage. I could have fornicated with unbridled passion and struck down my foes as I saw them for the slightest insult, but that was not for me. I was interested in the caress of the afterlife’s distant, deranged cousin, the void of the twisting nether.
I sought the old tomes, the decaying ways, and the very sinew of the damned. I wished to control forces that men dared not think of the possibility of dreaming of speaking of. I crept into unkempt halls, and perused librams of foul magic at my whim. I snuck around my peers, and family, and dove into the damnation that brings me to my new nom de plume, and my new identity. I, in hindsight, should not have delved into the acrimonious pile of filth that I had wanted. I was damned.
What idiocy, folly, and blatant foolishness did I drive myself into, like a madman on a cart along the bluffs? I dove into the summoning of those that would destroy all good and reveled in it! I drew the appropriate sigils, scrawled the required pentacles, and even etched the runes of power into my own flesh. I called out to the void, the darkness that binds us all in hatred, and HE CAME TO ME. Devrosinus, the damnation of the 3rd eredar planet to be claimed by the demonic hell of Sargeras, the fallen titan!
That lovely demonic force grasped my soul, squeezing all the kindness out of it, punishing me for my desires, and the very demented thoughts I thought were true. He asked why he had been summoned, and I eked out, “I wish for power, for glory, and the damnation of my enemies! I wish to no longer be seen as weak amongst my peers, and I want them all to suffer as they had wished upon me, but a thousandfold! I crave the demise of their anima, their souls, their “pah” or whatever it is. I want them ground to dust under my feet, soaked in the urine of the beggars they look down upon!”
Devrosinus bellowed an evil, cacophonous laughter, and after what seemed like eons, he spoke.
Oh did he speak.
Yes, did I tremble, down to the very pit of the core of my troubled soul.
“You will have what you seek, but by your bones you are bound. By your hands will you rip their souls. By your teeth will you feast on their flesh. By your mind you will remember this, day and night for your life. By your mouth? You will call forth their damnation, for you are MORROWSWORN, henceforth and forever. Bound to me. Once your soul is free of this mortal coil, it will join untold infinite others, and be consumed!” He spoke.
I felt my limbs contort. I saw untold crawling lines and sigils of power wash over my flesh. I felt pain untold and unknown for eons! My skin grew fur, my jaw grew like a wolf. I fell to all fours and howled. I knew my lot, now, and I was not prepared for it. I was not kind to others, and now my body has shown itself as my soul would look. I was a worgen… And now… I am but a tool of the damned.
There is more, but body and soul weep for respite that shall never be given, found, or taken for me. I shall write more, as the time allows, if it is willed by the untold forces in my soul…
John O’Hara