Story: Rattles and Hobbey-Horses

[Darren Tereos]

Dayari entered an empty room at the Gallow's End Tavern. It looked to be only recently vacated, as evidenced by the still smoldering wick and rumpled bedsheets. Dayari paused momentarily to stare at the bed, attempting to reason what might have been the cause of the room's state of disarray. In the absence of signs of combat, the Forsaken could not come to a firm conclusion. Seating himself by the desk, he removed a piece of folded parchment stored in his gauntlets, methodically unfolding it, and pulling a quill and ink from his packs. Running his hand over the parchment to smooth it, he eyed an unfamiliar ring on his finger.

“Edward's...that's right.”

Settling down to write, Dayari raised his quill, dipped it in ink, and paused a moment, chasing a memory. I remember....A commotion from the ground floor disrupted his reverie. It sounded like shouting, tinged with that echo unique to the Death Knights recently freed from the service of the Lich King. From upstairs Dayari could neither understand the shouting, nor could he concentrate to draw a single memory forth to put to paper. Walking downstairs, Dayari saw the source of the noise: a Blood Elf clad in formidable-looking plate armor. Aside from the usual customers and this new arrival, the inn was empty. The Blood Elf looked at Dayari, raised his hands in front of his face and continued his monologue. “I am in communication with him...do you know what pain his voice brings me?”

Dayari said nothing initially, uncertain as to whether or not he was being addressed directly or if he had missed the conversation partner for the person in front of him. Noting that no one else seemed to be registering that there was anyone talking, Dayari responded, “I hear a lot of hims, which one do you hear?”

“Not just anyone, the voice of the master...the voice of Koo Thoo Lou, a great Troll necromancer of the North! I cannot fend him off forever; I fear the torture he submits me to. You see, even now the blood runs from my eyes because I have been bad, so bad. Why must this happen to me, Artelino, Knight of the Sadistic Hand?” The Death Knight stumbled to rest his arm on a table, clutching at his long red hair.

Dayari shifted his head, gazing around Artelino's glowing blue eyes, looking for the blood that supposedly flowed from his eyes. “Nothing there. I'm wrong about things too, I wouldn't worry.”

Artelino stood up suddenly, looking at Dayari. “But, you see, I have a plan. I have a plan that will stop Koo Thoo Lou. I have found an army that I will lead to Northrend to find this necromancer and stop him before he takes complete control and uses me to destroy the Eastern Kingdoms. Come, you will see my army!” Grabbing Dayari's bony hand, Artelino pulled Dayari from the inn and pointed Northeast. “There, in the woods of Tirisfal Glades, I have found followers who I will guide into battle.”

“Followers are good. They can help kill things.”

“Yes, yes they will. I will show you them, they will be a nightmare of death I will reign down upon the icy wastelands across the sea. Come!” The Death Knight summoned a Deathcharger from the Nether, mounting it in one swift movement.

Examining the strange creature in front of him, Dayari walked to his undead steed and raised himself to a seated position on his mount. Artelino again pointed to the Northeast and spurred his horse onward. Dayari rode his skeletal warhorse in close pursuit. Soon the pair found themselves ascending a worn road up a small hill. Dayari noticed the banners and flags adorning the sides of the road. Something was familiar about them, but what that might be could not be retrieved from the Forsaken's memories.

“You will see them, my beautiful army! Once they hoped to crush the undead, now they serve my bidding to eradicate my enemy.” Galloping into a small monastery, the two passed a variety of startled Monks and soldiers, all bearing the same symbol as seen on their approach: a red flame on a white background. Artelino came to a stop in front of a large wooden door. “On the other side, you will see them.” Dismounting and pushing open the doors, the Death Knight moved into the complex, hair matted and disheveled, nearly shaking in excitement. Dayari glanced behind him at the massing group of angry-looking people with weapons drawn, babbling incoherently in Common. Dayari followed Artelino, shutting the door behind them.

Turning his attention to the leader of this excursion, he saw Artelino moving at a run toward a group of soldiers. The identically dressed group, initially gaped upon sighting the fully armored Death Knight charging them, but quickly their resolve solidified and they began to swing their weapons, attempting to slay the interloper. However, Artelino's armor was fashioned of sterner stuff and he merely ignored the swords, maces, and clubs that fell like rain upon his armor. “You see how they follow me? I must gather the ranks!” At a run he went, and soon a score of murderous inhabitants were in pursuit. Dayari moved to keep pace, careful to avoid drawing the attention of battalion that seemed singularly focused on their oblivious agitator. Finally stopping, Artelino looked to Dayari, and bellowed over the din of weapons on his armor, “You see how they adore me? They prostrate themselves at my feet! I shall take them with me to Northrend and put an end to my nightly torment!”

Watching the spectacle in front of him, Dayari pulled an assortment of blades from his belt, looked to the wide eyed Death Knight and his “followers,” then threw the blades in a wide array, felling all but the Death Knight in a manner of seconds. Artelino stopped, finally speechless, his blue eyes blinking as he surveyed the carnage.

Dayari spoke as he turned away, “You make too much noise.”

* * *

Again sitting in a room in the Gallow's End Tavern, Dayari unfolded his parchment again and began to write. I remember madness...