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Subject: {ASSM} Warcraft. Chapter 1. The Lesson.
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<1st attachment, "Warcraf1.doc" begin>

Warcraft.

Chapter 1:The Lesson

'The Undead have been advancing far too quickly' whispered
Ecksana, the young Night Elf Huntress. She stood with her
companion Trindis on the summit of a sloping hill covered thickly
with the timeless, towering trees they had both become so fond
of. Warm, comforting sunlight broke through the leaves above here
and there creating a calm splendor that only those of Ashenvale
forest could ever experience. The time, however, for basking in
the glory of their homeland was at its end. Within days, they
both knew it; the sickening undead army would carve a path
through the living, breathing Sagarma Pines of Ashenvale. 
'Undead...' was all Trindis could reply. The very word conjured
up dark images in her mind. She had seen them at a distance.
She'd seen their workers. Wretched, filthy slaves of the shadow,
their very skin peeling from every ligament. Had almost smelt
their repugnant odour as they doggedly went about their duties.
Trindis felt a shiver run through her and at the same moment knew
she couldn't go through with it.
'I'm turning back.' She looked directly at her companion. 'I
can't face these demons, 'sana. I...they're horrific.'
'You're a skilled archer, Trindis. You have been chosen by our
leader...no by Elune herself to fight these undead warriors,
you...'
'Warriors?! These creatures are a disease. Men and women, fallen
in death, and then revived by the most unholy magic imaginable to
ravage and destroy. These are not warriors.'
Ecksana, the older of the two remained calm, giving her friend a
chance to express herself. She looked questioningly at the
archer. 'You're afraid.'
'I'm afraid' Trindis agreed. 'And somewhere in the back of your
mind you are too.'
'You speak truly.' Ecksana frowned. 'But in this war, I cannot,
will not let fear control me.'
Trindis contemplated this for a moment. 
'Nor...will I.' Trindis offered a weak smile, telling the
huntress she would continue. They both stood a moment longer on
the hill's green peak. A random breeze passed over them, rippling
the women's hair. Shiny leaves fell spinning from the tree cover
above. 
'We must advance slowly until night has fallen' Ecksana's voice
had a commanding quality to it but she tempered it with
compassion for her younger friend. 'Keep a look out. The undead
are clumsy and we will sense their approach. But we can't afford
to under estimate these vile creatures.'

A small, spectral being loomed in the shadows of a tall Mixa bush
only metres from where the beautiful Night Elf women stood. There
was no need for caution however. He was a Shade; almost
undetectable. Once a living member of the cult of the damned, Jav
Kannis, a loyal acolyte, had let himself be killed in the
horrifying depths of the sacrificial pit. He had allowed the dark
powers of ritualistic slaughter transform him into an invisible
spy for the Undead Scourge. There had been pain as they
transformed him. At one point it seemed as if his entire body was
burning for an hour or more. Even now his ghostly frame throbbed
with the after effects of the spell of conversion. But it had
been done. Kannis struggled with his new self as the memories of
his life slowly faded. In their place came the surging mental
darkness, the driving force for all undead life forms, bending
them to the will of Ner'zhul. Focus was the key now. To gather
what information he could from these radiant beings, the night
elf warriors, Trindis the archer and her companion Ecksana. As
his former self, Jav Kannis would most surely have found these
two attractive. The younger one...the archer was particularly
lovely. She wore the traditional Keleem body suit which
inadvertently showed off her ample cleavage and her long, shapely
legs. Her face was youthful, curious and prefect. These thoughts
traveled through Jav's mind but now only as cold, unfeeling facts
being collected. Soon the appearance of a woman would no longer
count for anything. Soon, he would see only the mission. 

He had been trailing them for a day and a half now and had learnt
what he needed to know. Trindis had been sent to assassinate his
current master, a death knight named Gorne Namrad.  From the
looks of things it was her first assignment. The huntress,
Ecksana had been sent with her to act as a guide of some kind.
These two would be easy prey. For a moment the invisible shade
considered staying with them an hour or two longer. Perhaps he
could learn who else was sneaking through this accursed forest,
what these Nigh Elves planned. Then another thought came into his
mind. Namrad, his master was an impatient man. He demanded speed
from his servants, regardless of the task, and Kannis knew he had
already been out here too long. Silently, the shade slipped away
from the cover of the bush and began his swift journey back to
the wretched undead base camp.


Gorne Namrad always demanded respect as he rode in on his
nightmarish steed. He was huge for a human. His shoulders were
broad and his arms and legs rippled with muscle. These were
almost undetectable, however, covered as they were by black
flowing robes; the robes themselves being tattered along the
edges giving Gorne an eternal, menacing appearance. The Death
Knight's skin was gray, a constant reminder to him that he was
once a champion of the human race and had now become a servant of
evil. A servant of his undead lord Ner'zhul. Gorne jumped down
from his pallid horse, and several workers, Ghouls they called
them, looked up from their duties if only for a moment. He could
see the fear in some of their eyes, the expectancy that he might
at a whim strike one of them down to regain energy for himself
using the insidious Death Pact spell. Gorne had done it before,
often after battle. Had chosen one of the vile Ghouls at random,
maybe the one that looked the weakest, and murdered it with his
double edged sword; channeling life force out of it to revitalize
his weakened body. 

As the Death Knight stood quietly for a moment, carefully
surveying this temporary base, he heard a familiar sound a little
way off. He turned in its direction to see a large, clumsy
vehicle rattling over the hill towards the encampment. A corpse
transport, known to all the undead as a Meat Wagon. At one time
in his life, long ago, the site of the contraption would have
sickened him. Its wooden frame stained with the blood of recently
slain enemies, the stench of the dead corpses it carried flooding
the air around it. For all intents and purposes it was a mobile
funeral parlour. The diseased Meat Wagon was a gruesome site
indeed but not for Gorne Namrad. To him it meant blessed victory.
Inside were the trophies of war: corpses that could be put to
further use. Behind the wagon came a gangly troop of undead
warriors. A horde of ghouls returning from battle, ghouls that
had been chosen to fight rather than gather lumber. Gorne watched
them gambol towards him. 

The sun was going down behind the tree line on the hills. Night
would be upon them shortly and that meant the Elves would have
the advantage. A slight advantage. Providing they stayed
motionless, the Elves could disappear at night and Gorne despised
them for it. Shadow Melding they'd named this ability and even
the Dread Lords in their infinite wisdom and power couldn't see
them. It was true the undead had invisible beings of their own.
The cunning little Shades did an excellent job at scouting for
the enemy. A Shade, however, could not detect a shadow melded
Night Elf. It was a slight advantage, Gorne reminded himself.
Night Elves could disappear into thin air, but they couldn't move
and what good would invisibility do if you were surrounded by a
pack of ravenous Ghouls. Sooner or later, the bitch had to move.

They approached now. The large, semi-rusted wheels of the Meat
Wagon whined as it rolled into the camp. Almost immediately, one
of the rancid Ghouls jumped inside the wooden compartment and
began hurling fresh corpses onto the ground. The remaining Ghouls
huddled around the growing pile of dead men and women like ants
scurrying to a dead bird. Gorne watched with interest as the
somewhat mindless creatures sank their teeth into the flesh and
blood of the battle victims. As they ate, they made disgusting
noises. Noises that sounded to the Death Knight like a
culmination of many dull splashes, like small rocks falling into
a pool of water or, more appropriately, like a pool of blood. He
surveyed the sinister feast, looking on as shiny arms and legs
were ripped from their sockets. One Ghoul he saw was eating into
a woman's head like it was a large peach. This demented process
of cannibalism always intrigued him. He smiled a dark smile and
then sensed the presence of someone behind him. Gorne turned
around quickly, his black cape whirling around with him and was
met with the tired, yet somewhat content face of Dorric
Kriminar.

Kriminar smiled back. 'It's good to have you back with us, sir.'
'Somehow or other, you always manage to sneak up on me, Dorric.
Perhaps you've chosen the wrong profession?'
'Perhaps you're right. I would make the perfect assassin wouldn't
you agree?'
'Most assuredly my friend. You're short and stealthy, the ideal
combination.' Gorne laughed for some reason and Dorric carefully
laughed along with him. Both knew this was not the time for
light-hearted remarks. They had a pressing mission to accomplish:
the eradication of the Night Elf population. But even in war
time, some laughter was healthy, if only to lift morale. 
'No' Dorric countered. 'I've been working at bringing the dead
back to life for so long now; I don't think I could get my mind
around sending them to their deaths. Leave that to the Ghouls.'
'It seems that's exactly what you have done.' Gorne tilted his
head slightly, giving his necromancer friend an inquisitive
glance. 'The assignment...was there success?'
Dorric thought he detected a threat in that question, as if the
Death Knight might slice his head off if he spoke of failure.
'Everything went to plan, my lord. We...'
'Where, then, is the priestess?'
'The second wagon my lord.' Even as he spoke the words, another
clattering meat wagon rolled over the hill, through the path
they'd cleared. This time however, great metal chains had been
attached to it. The chains were long, and on each of them were
attached a group of Night Elf hostages. They walked, almost
moped, with their heads downward to the pace of the slow moving
vehicle. Their blue-purple skin contrasted dramatically with the
drab, gray Ghouls that escorted them. Most of the captured elves
were female. Gorne noticed that along with the Ghouls, marched a
company of Crypt Fiends; giant spiders that served the undead
wherever they could be spared.
'You kept most of them alive?' Gorne sounded surprised.
'Dorric...I underestimated you.'
'It was not the easiest of tasks. The elves are quick...quicker
than most of our forces. And they are supremely adept at their
archery. Many of our warriors fell to the arrow.'
'That of course is where your skills come into play.'
'Indeed. I converted more than thirty of their dead into skeletal
fighters. My energies are drained.'
'The priestess' Gorne pushed. 'She is inside the second wagon?'
'Yes my lord. Vanya Richwell.'
Gorne screwed his face u p. 'I really couldn't care less what her
name is. They're all alike to me. The same virus with a different
face.'
'Not this one.' Dorric flashed a wicked smile at his commander.
'The word beautiful is not nearly descriptive enough in this
case, oh Death Knight.' This took Gorne's interest. 'She is a
rare beauty, Necromancer?'
'Indeed my lord. Perhaps when you have had your way with her, you
will be kind enough to share her with your loyal servants...as a
reward for a successful mission.'
'Perhaps' Gorne agreed. 'But I have other plans for her. I intend
to make an example of her although the particulars are not yet
clear in my mind.'

At that moment, the air around Gorne and Dorric seemed to grow
dense. Gorne sensed the sudden change in atmosphere and
immediately knew what he was dealing with. 
'Show yourself!' the Death Knight commanded after which the air
in front of him began to warp and eddy as if a strong current of
heat had suddenly flowed through it.  The surreal form of a Shade
began to blend into reality and within seconds, the former
acolyte Kannis appeared, eyes glowing.
'I bring news of the Elves in the forest, lord Namrad' spoke the
Shade cautiously.
'Let's hear it then' interjected Dorric. 'What are those elven
wenches planning.' As the small Shade began to relay information
of the two Night Elf women in the forest, the remainder of the
undead forces marched into the outpost. From inside the second
Meat Wagon came a shrill, high pitched scream. Gorne interpreted
it at once in his subconscious. The captured Night Elf priestess
was trying her hardest to turn the odds in her favour, perhaps
attempting to invoke one of her irritating incantations. Starfall
was one of the spells a wizened Priestess of the Moon would use
in this situation, Gorne thought to himself. Frustrated with her
sudden inability to practice her magic, she had screamed in
frustration. Gorne and the black magician Dorric stood and
listened to the Shade's report, grimly assessing the Ecksana and
her companion's plans for assassination. As Kannis concluded his
version of events, Dorric dismissed him. Within the undead base,
Shades were to remain visible. Dorric and Gorne watched this
particular Shade hover away towards the sacrificial pit it had
been created in to revitalize itself. The Death Knight turned to
his underling. 'They plan to kill me, necromancer.'
'I'll double security around the outpost.'
'Triple it. Use the crypt fiends. Their senses are always more
reliable than these idiot Ghouls.'
As he spoke these words, his eyes happened upon the second meat
wagon. From inside jumped two idiot ghouls holding rusty chains
in their hands. They span around and began yanking on the chains.
Presently, a Night Elf Priestess came into view, struggling and
fighting from inside the wooden compartment. Gorne noted that she
had unusual strength and it wasn't until another of the workers
latched onto one of the chains and began pulling violently that
Vanya Richwell tripped unstoppably and fell out of the wagon.
Even from a distance, and in the dark of the evening, Gorne
immediately recognized her beauty. The Death Knight turned to
Dorric and smiled a smile that alarmed him somewhat. Was he
smiling because he was about to take Dorric's miserable life? Had
he in some way failed his dark master?
'There's one thing I like about these Night Elf women,
necromancer.' Gorne watched, amused, as Dorric's face relaxed a
little.
'Yes? What's that, my lord?'
'Their immodest dressing habits.'
Before Dorric had a chance to reply, Gorne continued. 'A
thought...no perhaps a number of thoughts have just crossed my
mind. We're going to teach these Night Elves a lesson about the
harsh reality of life. Or rather...life after death. I will need
your assistance with some magic.'
'Of course, Death Knight. What did you have in mind?'
'Come. We'll talk of it later. For now let's go and greet our
visitor. Better yet, I'll greet her myself. You go and organize
security. I have no desire to leave this camp as a corpse in one
of those hideous meat wagons.'


I'll post the remainder of this chapter if there's enough
interest. Let me know if you'd like to know the outcome of the
story...email me at <a
href="mailto:toxic_caramel@hotmail.com">toxic_caramel@hotmail.com
</a>. Rape and demonic spells are a certainty. 

<1st attachment end>


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