Tormeron's events: the Stories

[Gergel]

The Cathedral again. What is it with me and the Cathedral in these recent days? There is a curious sensation about the building, however. The air does not itch quite so much.

There is Adrenus, over there. Looks like he has picked up a quite large group tonight. I recognize Chepi, Aroona, Tessliana, Serendipity, Equanimity. Syrah and Avalerion, I have met them briefly but am still unsure of them. Claraa. She has not been around for a while. A new face. Death knight who calls herself Arya. I do not have any information about her allegiances nor intentions, best keep an eye on her for the time being.

Adrenus seems quite agitated. Something has hit close to home, it seems. The assumption is correct: with urgency in his voice he explains how masses of the undead have recently started to try to push their way out of the Cathedral crypts. The more powerful priests and paladins are away on a mission, Pandaria or Orgrimmar, no doubt, and the remaining forces are in over their head. Can we handle the situation? As if he needs to ask. I will go in alone if need be.

We move into the Cathedral. Someone tries to stop us. The gnome priest, Equanimity, takes it upon himself to talk them down. He talks too much. I would just announce myself as an Argent Crusader and move in. Still, it is good that there are others to do the talking. Can we just not head to the catacombs already?

The other death knight appears agitated as well. Looking for a battle? Or just not enjoying the presence of the Cathedral? Even inside, the sensation of holiness is dulled. Something evil is nearby.

Masses of undead have been pushing out of the basement since this night, says one of the priests. The defenders maintain a holy shield but it is uncertain how long it can last. Curious. The priest explains that there has been a sensation of unrest ever since a draenei priestess fought a great darkness in the Cathedral some weeks ago. That certainly sounds familiar.

The gnome has finished talking. These delays are annoying, to say the least. We can finally move in now. I observe the priests: they look tired, on edge. A few notice my insignia. Is that relief I see in their expressions?

A glowing golden shield blocks the stairs from the basement to the crypts. It does not look very strong. A huge mass of reanimated corpses is pushing against it. They burn, screech, and keep pushing. Mindless. Countless. My work is cut out for me. Some of my companions look uneasy. Others, like myself: ready to charge in. The death knight called Arya stands beside me with a spear. We are about to determine where her loyalties lie.

We instruct the priests who are maintaining the shield to drop it. A mass of undead pushes out. We push back. My runeblade whispers its glee into my mind as we strike down the trash in great sweeps. They are pitifully weak. Ripped apart in a single swing. Their clawing is futile against my armour. Arya is advancing at my side, she appears to be enjoying herself just as much as I am. My suspicions about her are decreasing. Others behind me are shooting and casting spells, these whizz past me and scatter the limbs of the advancing animated corpses. For a brief moment I am in pain: a holy spell strikes me from behind. Equanimity apologizes profusely, I let it pass.

There is brief silence, a lull in the battle. Every enemy in sight lies still on the ground. This does not last. Such quiet moments never last. A whirlwind of bones begins to swirl in the corner, it moves past me, attempts to pull in Equanimity. I grab the gnome by the scruff of his neck as he flies past me, screaming and flailing, and toss him back away from the vortex. In turn, he uses his Leap of Faith spell to remove Claraa from the path of the whirlwind.

This is not something I can fight with my runeweapon. Fortunately I came prepared. I offer a silent thanks to Lilandris as I draw my holy sword. My hands are both in pain and numb at the same time. I slash at the vortex.

Two white orbs, eyes, open on top of it. They whisper to me: "Join me!" Why do such evil beings always try to cajole me to their side? A death knight, they think, surely she must be evil to the core. I give my response by striking directly at them with the blessed blade. The phantom screams and bleeds, an ethereal white substance that dissipates just as it appears, and then it flees.

We follow. There are more undead in the way. Nothing to be concerned about. Skeletons scatter in every direction, ghouls fall into pieces. Then there is something fast and small, gnome sized, charging at the group with surprising speed and agility. It swings at Tessliana, dodges out of the way, then comes charging directly at my face. Bad idea. I extend a fist. Argent plate armour against a squishy gnome zombie is not an equal match. It falls aside, gets up, attacks again. I use Death Grip and pull it directly at my sword. The zombie is incredibly agile, it manages to swerve even as my power yanks it towards me. Not agile enough. It misses my sword but impacts on my armour, I barely feel it, but the zombie's head just splatters.

Free of distractions, we move down the stairs. Yet more zombies are surrounding the injured entity that has fled behind them. The zombies are casting spells; I bring up my Anti-Magic Shell and charge at them. My entire body feels ablaze with power. One attempts some type of a banishment spell on me. Might as well try to dam a river with a pebble. The zombies go down with incredibly satisfying crunches. Then it is just the ghostly entity and I.

Except not. The entity is gone. Its power, however, remains and apparently decides on a more subtle attack. The world seems to recede from my senses. My companions' voices are distant and quiet. Their forms change. Skin peels off, bodies rot, they look like the undead. I close my eyes, calm myself, draw upon other senses. I smell their blood. Still the same humans, elves, gnomes. It is as if undead shapes are an overlay on top of their true forms. I force myself to look past it, see them as they are.

Claraa, it appears, is also affected but not doing as well. She is looking around in confusion and apparently only seeing the false undead forms. She stabs Adrenus. Then Serendipity. Screaming at the undead that she believes are surrounding her. The smell of blood is thick in the air. I force down an urge to strike her down where she stands, put away my sword and grab ahold of her from behind, hold her down. She is strong, I do not know how long I can hold her.

Fortunately a divine intervention is on the way. A familiar presence. Lilandris rushes down the stairs with her weapon drawn and holy fire in her eyes. We might still come out of this in one piece, all of us. Ignoring Claraa's struggling I pin her arms to her body. Lilandris' holy power strikes whatever is affecting Claraa, rips it out of her. I toss Claraa aside: she is free of the influence now. The holy sword is in my hand, I swing at the entity Lilandris just removed from Claraa. It charges at me. Unwise. My truesilver sword is in the way, the phantom impales itself on it. Screaming, bleeding yet again. The entity escapes through the wall. There is nowhere for it to go, a holy shield is surrounding this place. Lilandris is by my side, we charge after it. Almost as an afterthought I notice that Claraa is injured, Equanimity and Adrenus are healing her with their spells. Serendipity and Adrenus himself are already looking better. How convenient, having access to holy healing magic.

More zombies in the next room. I switch to my runeblade and charge at them. They try to fight back. Futile. Their feeble scrapes glance off my armour. The unholy entity is there, cowering before me. Just one more step and it will go down.

But of course no, it will not be as simple as that. It lashes out in despair. Bodies of entombed human knights stand up, now warped in undeath, corrupted to attack us. They seem to take a liking to Lilandris. I slash at them, try to draw their attention, and yet they ignore me only to charge at the priestess. This allows me to strike with relative ease, but it is almost impossible to keep them from injuring Lilandris. I hit harder, cut one of the knights down. My runeblade slices through his armour and finally ends his attack. Then the other. Spells and arrows fly around, my companions have been busy, but I do not have time to notice their efforts. The second knight is destroyed by a combination of my sword and Tessliana's arrow through his skull.

The knight melts into a corrosive unholy ooze that is flowing towards me. Fortunately we are both standing in a recessed area of the floor, and all I need to do to bring me to safety is step to higher ground. The ooze attempts to follow, but is promptly vapourized by the holy spells of Lilandris as well as Equanimity and Adrenus who apparently have caught up with us.

Then only the unholy phantom is left. It looks injured. Time to die. I draw my holy sword. The entity makes one final effort to dissuade me, it assumes the forms of familiar souls. I glimpse Lilandris. Tirion. William. Why would such a display stop me? I know that they are either still alive, or already long dead. I know that it is merely the entity before me. And I strike it down. The holy blade burns in my hands as it sears its form, its spirit. It screams a threat, a warning, a plea, and then it is gone.

Is it over now? The battle is complete. The overbearing sense of unholiness around the Cathedral is gone. The Light is once again pricking my body and my soul.

Everything goes dark. Only Serendipity's tiny magical lantern companion is visible, barely. I sense some of the group members trying to cast various spells of light with no success. Fire blazes in the ceiling and dies instantly. Holy glow flares and dissipates. Someone yelps, another person cries out. I feel something rush past me. A voice I identify as Equanimity begins to shout urgently. I ignore the darkness and charge towards the scent of his blood in the air. Then there is light again. A large rat has attacked Equanimity, and is now charging towards Chepi. I attempt to strike it down, but the gnome woman is swifter. She swings her scythe and bisects the rat neatly.

Is it over now? No. More rats pour out of the dark corners. This, at last, is not my battle. I take a step back and allow the group's magic users to get their chance to shine. Fire, ice and the arcane fall down from the ceiling. The mass of rats is torn apart.

Is it over now? No, still not. I feel a rumbling through the soles of my boots. Something is coming out of the floor. Something big. Bigger than a human.

The largest rat I have ever seen comes out of the ground. Tessliana shoots an arrow at it. I draw my runeblade and strike. It squeaks and attempts to attack us. Compared to what we have faced tonight, it is nothing. I bury my blade up to its hilt in the rat's body. A faint pulsing sensation runs into my hands through my sword. I channel my power back towards it. The rat's heart bursts, and then it is dead.

Is it over now?

Yes.

It is finally over. No more rats. No more undead. No more phantoms. No more illusions.

We survey the battlefield, pick up the pieces, and depart the Cathedral. The tired, scared priests bless us tearfully.

A night well spent.