Dharkoth background

[Dharkoth]

When Tiri'mur Silverwing was alive he was a simple herbalist living in the out skirts of Tarren Mills. He had moved there many years ago, from Silvermoon not liking the commotion and constraints that was there. He had stayed mostly to himself only coming to town to peddle his ware and to resupply what he could not get from the land itself.

He spent his days collecting the herbs he needed to make his potions and elixirs, as well as the other things he needed to live from day to day. It was on one of these daily treks that his life would be changed. He was in Aranthi Highlands hoping to find the remains of a Plains Creeper to collect some of their venom. He did this to help make antidotes for the poison it carried, when he heard the sounds of a fight and the screams of a girl.

He was torn at this point, since part of him did not want to get involved, but on the other hand he could not turn his back on someone in need, so he made his way to the scream. When he got there he seen an older human trying to fight off a Plains Creeper, as well as a young girl peering out from behind a tree. Tiri'mur removed a small dart and reached into his satchel taking out a small capped bottle dipping the dart into it and moved closer.

The old man said something, but he was concentrating on getting close enough to deliver the dart safely. The Creeper lifted a front leg bringing it down faster than the old man could dodge, knocking him to ground. The girl gave another scream, giving him a moments reprieve and allowing Tiri'mur to drive the dart into the Creeper just as it slammed those dripping fangs into the old mans midsection. The old man gave a deafening scream and the Creeper turned on Tiri'mur, but he had already began to run away knowing, that if the Creeper ran after him the poison he had injected into it would course thru the body faster.

Tiri'mur was a good runner and had always been, but he had never tried to out run a creature like the Creeper and soon found himself being over taken. He pushed his body even more knowing the creature was getting closer, saying a prayer to the gods asking for their help and hoping that he would survive this. He did not look back for he could hear the beast chittering at him causing him to redouble his efforts fearing for his own life now.

The Creeper made a strange noise and Tiri'mur heard a thunderous crashing sound, but still he did not look back, as he just kept running. When he did not hear the chittering sounds he peered behind to see the twitching Creeper on its back. He stopped by a pile of rocks looking around, then quickly made his way back to where the old man and girl was. She was crying holding the old man, who was laying there pale and bleeding. Tiri'mur knew that the poison was working fast on him and he did not have time if he was to save him. He pulled a small vial from his satchel and moved towards the old man. He placed the vial to his mouth making it look like he was drinking it. He did not use common tongue too much, so he kept it simple, “save... drink... quick.” He told her holding the potion out to her.

She grabbed for the potion quickly and poured it into the old mans mouth holding his nose shut and closed his mouth. Tiri'mur was impressed that she had enough sense to do what she did. He finally looked at her worried as she was and fretting for the life of the old man, but was astonished by her beauty. He had seen many lovely woman of his race, but there was something about this exotic human woman. He was transfixed by her, for there was a vulnerability there, as well as strength, and a beauty he could not touch, or had seen in a woman before this moment. He did not believe in love at first sight, but she had captured his heart instantly.

Tiri'mur shook his head trying to clear it when he heard the old man moan. He looked at him and then bent down to look at the wound. He took a bandage from his satchel as well as another potion holding it out to the girl speaking to her again,”Heal... drink.” She took the potion and again gave it to the old man, as Tiri'mur took a small wrapping and applied the content to the wound, then wrapped it. He looked at the girl speaking, “Help... unsafe... home.”

They carried the old man back to Dabyrie farm. Tiri'mur was not greeted kindly, but they were more concerned with the old man. They took him quickly and the one man looked angrily at Tiri'mur speaking too quick for him to understand and motioned for him to leave. Tiri'mur reached into his satchel and held out two more potions, then spoke,”Antidote... poison... heal.” He bowed his head waiting for them to take the vials. The girl spoke softly and the voice was magic to him, as she thanked him taking the vials. He looked up at her, then spoke,”Heal... him...” He touched his chest, then spoke “Tiri'mur... help.” He waited for her to speak again, hoping for just a word and the feeling he got hearing it, but she only nodded. He bowed to her a bit sad at not hearing her voice and left feeling the eyes upon him as he did.

Tiri'mur was lost as he left the farm; lost in her words and her beauty. He had not even got her name, which he cursed himself for not doing. He knew the farm, for everyone knew it, but he did not know who she was. He made his way back to his hut forgetting to even harvest any herbs. He spent the next day harvesting, but his mind was only on her and that beauty, as well as sweet sounding voice. It would echo in his mind and torment him to hear more of it. He found himself needing to see her and to hear her. Tiri'mur decided that the following day he would visit her and check on the old man.

The day did not come fast enough, but finally came. He made his way to the farm quickly and once again was meet with an unfriendliness, but it did not deter him. They brought him to the farm house and was made to wait. A young man came to the porch motioning for him to follow him, which Tiri'mur did. They went to the old man who was laying on a large bed and that is when he seen her there by his side. He looked better than he did the first time he seen him. The old man motioned him to his side.

He spoke, but Tiri'mur could not understand him. “Not... understand...” Tiri'mur spoke. The old man then spoke to him slowly. “I am Jacob Dabyrie and I thank you for helping me and my daughter Serena. I owe you much and you have my thanks.”

Tiri'mur gave the old man a bow speaking, “Must... help... wrong... not... to. Drink... tea... day... night... make... strong...” He hated struggling as he did with the words and hoped they understood him. That was when he heard that magical voice once again,”Thank you, I will make sure he drinks it.” There was a power, as well as softness to her voice that attracted him like a moth to a flame. He smiled as he looked at her, which brought sour looks from most here. He bowed to her and the old man and slowly left the room. When he got to the porch Serena had followed him.

“Please wait, I know it is not much, but please take this. It is a small gift for your kindness made by my own hand.” She said to him holding a small earthen colored scarf out to him. He looked at it as thought it was made of pure gold and the most precious thing he had ever seen. He reached out to take it touching her hand as he did and felt a tingle run thru him. He looked quickly into her eyes and knew she too felt it. He took the scarf, then spoke quietly,”Thank... you... see... you... good... see... again?” She shyly smiled and nodded heading back into the farm house.

Tiri'mur left the farm floating on the clouds, but those clouds would not always be there, for there were those who did not like the smile he was given. Two seasons went by with Tiri'mur visiting the farm and Serena. He would bring his wares and other things that he would make trading them there. It was though, the secret meetings with Serena that he looked forward to more than breathing itself. She gave him a reason to speak common and became much better at it.

They had become so close and felt so comfortable with each other that it only made sense to be together, but she knew that it was something that would be hard for them to do. Tiri'mur wanted to speak with Jacob and ask for her hand, but she was afraid. He assured her that it would be okay, so they went to speak with him.

Jacob had become use to the boy, which is what he considered Tiri'mur, even though he was much older than Jacob himself. When they spoke to Jacob, he gave his reluctant permission, when he seen the pleading look from his daughter. They were wed, even though Tiri'mur insisted it was not needed that he knew she was his and he was hers, but Jacob had made this one of his conditions. This was not met with happiness by all, but Jacob was the master of his house.

Serena and him moved to his hut and for two more seasons they knew happiness, until they got word that Jacob had passed in the night. That was when the cloud began to disappear for them. Tiri'mur was out harvesting herb when he felt a pain in his head and was soon taken by darkness.

When he came too he was bleeding and bound. He heard guttural voice speaking and laughing. A human came towards him and he recognized him as one of Jacobs sons. He looked at Tiri'mur, then stuck his hard in the face turning his back on him and walking away. He handed a pouch to the man in blue not looking back.

Tiri'mur knew these men in blue, as the Syndicate. They were people he always stayed clear of at any cost and now he was in their hands. The man with the pouch motioned another towards him and spoke quietly with him, then he too left. What followed was much pain, bleeding, and humiliation for Tiri'mur. He heard laughter and worse, but all he was worried about was Serena and the child he would not know. They bobbed his ears laughing about him wanting to be human, before they left him broken in a hole. It seemed like forever, before the darkness of death finally took him and all he thought of was Serena and child he would not know. Tiri'mur had known happiness, love, and contentment that was something that could never be taken from him or so he thought.

Tiri'mur vaguely remember feeling his body hitting the wet, damp earth hard. He felt nothing nor did he hear anything as he laid there. The cold damp earth was a relief for him from what he had felt. Did this mean he was dead? If so, it was not how he was taught to think. He did not feel as part of the earth, as he was taught. He did not feel his ancestors, which he should.

Tiri'mur could not open his eyes for they were swelled shut, so he left the darkness take him. It was at this point that he heard the strange sounds in my mind. It was a rhythmic constant sound that filled his mind playing over and over in it. Tiri'mur felt drawn to it and the pain started once again. This was a different sort or pain. It was not a physical type of pain it was more a mental pain and it was brutal. He could not fight it and did not know how.

Tiri'mur did not know where he was, but knew he was not anywhere he recognized. He also knew he was not in his broken body. He looked at the being in front of him, but did not know who stood there, but he looked like a king of some kind. He looked down at Tiri'mur and spoke.

“I called you to me and now you are mine, for you have answered me. You will serve me from this point on doing my bidding as I see fit. So raise Dharkoth and serve me well. “ He watched the thing that was me now, for only a moment as it painfully brought itself to his undead feet. The thing that was me said nothing just bowed his head. He just turned and left. Darkness filled his mind and soon felt himself once more dragged from where he was, then found himself among others like him. How long this thing that was me spent with them or how long this thing fought with them, for it did not matter to him for he did not know time. This thing that was now me was serving his master, which was his only thoughts at this point.

It went on like this forever, or so it seemed, for time meant nothing to him, until the whispers started to fill his head. It was a sweet melodic whisper. It told him of a better life, a better purpose, of freedom, and making things right. It slowly worked its way into his mind deeper and deeper getting louder every moment, soon the thing began to know her voice and needed to hear it. It reminded him of a voice that whispered to him weakly sometimes, but he could not remember it.

The voice that now spoke to him was Sylvanas Windrunner and she was the leader of the Forsaken, a group of the undead who fought against my master. She slowly began to awaken that part of the thing that was now me. She nurtured it, reminding the thing of what it was and who it was, also that the person I use to be was not this mindless beast. You could make a difference, as well as help those like you, if you only tried and wanted to.

Every day the voice spoke thawing out the mindlessness that was this thing and bringing life back into its mind. The thing felt something it had not felt in a very long time in its life and that was regret, as well as disgust for what it had become. The part that was now alive was slowly beginning to plan with that beautiful voice, in how to escape and soon found that moment coming.

She told him who to find, as well as where and this was when Dharkoth began to once more live, if this is what his life was meant to be, then so be it! He soon found himself, in a new world full of wrongs that he would try and right, as well as forgiveness to be earned.

Dharkoth did not know the life he had before or those in it, for his mind forced it from his reach. He still heard the voice of his master though. It was always there to taunt him and twist his thoughts, hoping to sway him back to the old ways. He fought against it, as best as he could and hid from it mostly tormented and living in fear of what it would do to him. He knew could not let the LADY down, so he did what he could trying to get thru each day finding those that he could help and who could help him.