The Fall of Gilneas – Chapter 7: Unleash the Beast
The Fall of Gilneas
Chapter 7: Unleash the Beast
I took a step back, trembling a bit. What are these ships? And what the hell is that smell? My ears perked up as a twig snapped to my left. I stood up straight and oriented to the sound. Something cam ambling out of the shadows and charged straight towards me.
I didn’t have too much of a chance to see what it was, short of noting that it ran on two feet and was holding something sharp and shiny in its hand. The creature swung its weapon at me, but my body reacted almost automatically and I leapt to the side. As its arm swung past me, I couldn’t help but notice the exposed bone at its elbow and up part of its arm.
As it stumbled past me, I caught a full-fledged whiff of something that had to have been dead for weeks – at least. The creature stank of rot and pestilence; it stung my nose and almost forced me to gag.
I hopped back to put some distance between us so that I could get away from that stench and to get a better idea of what I was fighting. I let out a disgusted gasp. Whatever it was, it was human in form, but there was no way it could be. Its rotting skin was paler than snow except around the areas of exposed bone and sinew, which was a putrid greenish color. He had thin, scraggly hair that barely covered a head that was little more than a skull with a thin layer of skin stretched across it. Its eyes were set deep in its skull, making them little more than dark shadowy sockets. Its jaw was…missing. The thing’s tongue hung down, flopping around as it moved. The armor it wore matched the skull dagger stuck in the militiaman’s back.
It flailed its arms in agitation and made a strange noise akin to gargling water into a large tin can. I looked down at my claws. I don’t want to stick my hands into that…it’s disgusting. The militiaman’s discarded weapons caught my eyes.
The strange, undead thing charged at me again and I dove to the side, angling my body to land near the weapons. For some reason, my hands grasped the shield first. As I returned to my feet, my attacker had already returned for another strike. I lifted the shield up and heard the telltale clanging of steel hitting the barrier. I pushed back and then, with all of my strength, slammed the shield into its body. The sickening sound of bones cracking reached my sensitive ears.
It staggered back, barely able to keep itself upright. I picked the sword up, lunged forward, and drove the blade deep into its skull. I gargled at me weakly before falling to the ground. I stood over it, panting and holding my hand in front of my nose to block out the smell. It was all I could do to fight off the urge to vomit.
Was that one of those Scourge I had read about? But I had never heard of the Scourge having the ability to use naval vessels. These things were smarter than those mindless zombies. The Forsaken. A shiver ran down my spine. I knew only what I had read in the books, but these things didn’t care who or what they killed. If it wasn’t one of them, they would try to find some way to kill it. It was a miracle their allegiance with the Horde was still intact.
Another earthquake rattled the earth. They were becoming more frequent. Is the world itself falling apart?
I turned my attention back to the Forsaken scout lying dead at my feet. It had been sent ahead of those ships, and now there were more about to be unloaded from them. I have to warn Mayor Armstead!
I spun around and started running back towards town. I have to go faster! I leaned forward and pushed myself harder. Finally, I fell forward and, miraculously, my body’s muscle memory took over, and I began sprinting on all fours. The deafening boom of cannons shattered the skies behind me.
I dashed into town to a cadence of screams from the civilians. At first, I thought they were terrified of me – and perhaps some of them were – since the way I was running was typical of feral worgen. But, as I skidded to a halt and surveyed the crowd, I saw them all looking off towards the harbor.
“Naomi!” my father shouted, running up to me. “There you are! What’s going on?” He gave me a quick hug.
“We’re under attack,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath. “Where’s Mayor Armstead?” I asked frantically.
“I saw her a few minutes ago near the worgen house,” he informed me. I started running there. He chased after me.
The mayor was out in the streets near my sleeping quarters, trying to move her way through the growing, panicked crowd. I dodged around people, advancing towards her. Luckily, people were still uneasy enough with me that they gave me a wide berth, so I didn’t have to try too hard. “Lady Armstead,” I called as I got closer.
“What in blazes is happening?” she questioned.
“The Forsaken…there are ships at the docks,” I stated quickly. I stopped for a moment and looked back at my father who was close behind me. “They sank the Celeste.”
His expression had been serious before, but it became downright mournful at the news. “I…I see,” he muttered. I could almost hear part of him dying on the inside.
Lady Armstead blinked a couple of times. “The reefs…they always protected us from a coastal attack,” she mumbled to herself. Only a few people – like my father – knew the safe route to getting a larger ship close enough to make port. The ground rumbled yet again. “The earthquakes…they must’ve opened a passage for the Forsaken ships,” she realized. “Quick, Miss Naomi. You need to buy us some time. Slow them down while I get the rest of the militia ready.”
“No!” my father interrupted. We both looked at him. He put a hand on my shoulder and stared up at me with almost tear-filled, concerned eyes. “This isn’t your fight,” he told me softly before turning back to Lady Armstead with serious eyes. “This isn’t her fight.”
I came to the realization that, with the “death” of his ship, I was the last thing he had left in this world. But, I was also the only one of the worgen who knew how to fight. They might be able to hold their own if the curse were in control, but…
“You need me, too. Let me take care of these pesky outsiders,” the beast murmured. I resolved to prove it wrong.
“Daddy, I’ll be fine,” I declared. My track record with keeping my promises to people. I needed to do something to make up for what I’ve done as a worgen. “I can help. I need to do this.”
“Why? Why do you need to do this,” he demanded.
I could hear the sound of battle shouts and fighting not too far away. They were getting close to the town. “There’s no time. You can scold me when I come back,” I replied strongly. If I come back.
I heard a familiar voice in the distance yelling and taunting the undead. “I think I can hear the prince,” Lady Armstead mentioned. “He and some of our men must have engaged the Forsaken as we speak. Speak to Liam and see how you can be of use,” she recommended. I started to walk past her in the direction of the sounds of the skirmish. “Oh,” she added, stopping me. “And make sure he doesn’t get himself killed. I’m afraid he might be a little reckless in his current state.”
“I’m sorry?” I questioned dumbly.
“The prince never really…recovered…from Gilneas City. You’ll see what I mean. Good luck.”
I turned and looked to my father. “Stay safe. If you see Daniel, please let him know. Tell him…I’m coming back.” I really need to stop making these promises. This could very well be the last time I see my father.
His expression was stern. I could tell he knew he wouldn’t be able to talk me out of it. He just nodded while standing still. I could see the helplessness plastered across his face. I’m such a terrible daughter. With a low sigh, I faced the direction of the skirmish once again and ran off.
I ducked down the alley and sped past the buildings. I could see humans fighting against more of those creepy, foul undead just beyond the gate. As I closed in, the smell began to overwhelm my senses. I realized I didn’t have a weapon any more…I had left the sword embedded in the scout’s skull. Dummy! I still had my claws though. I am not using my teeth! If they smelled that bad, I was unwilling to even consider finding out how they tasted.
I finally caught sight of Liam. Or, at least I thought it was Liam. I recalled how he had looked in the city – so steadfast and regal. The man who stood before me was anything but. For one, he was shirtless. His hair was long and unkempt, as was his recently-grown beard. He stood in the middle of a crowd of guards, swinging the remains of a broken bottle at the Forsaken attackers. I could see what Lady Armstead had meant. At least he didn’t lose his fighting spirit.
I sprinted forward and dug my claws directly into the belly of the Forsaken immediately in front of the prince. My entire hand pierced the rotting flesh with a sickening squelching noise. I winced a bit as I could feel…something…wiggling around inside. I pulled my hand out as quickly as I could and kicked the undead attacker to the ground.
“Worgen! Have at you!” Liam challenged.
I spun around to face him, holding up my hands. “Prince Liam!” I entreated. My voice…it sounds a little more like…me! Maybe I was getting more used to talking. I still sounded hoarse, but it did come out sounding more like myself. It’s Naomi…Naomi Malmin,” I stated, assuming I’d have to reintroduce myself again.
His eyes seemed somewhat unfocused. I could distinctly smell liquor emanating from him, even above the stench of the undead around us. The bottle he used to defend himself must have been on-hand when he was attacked. After a moment, his eyes widened. “Naomi!! You are alive! I thought I was having drams about the old days when I heard your voice,” he rambled.
I heard something coming up behind me. This time, instead of using my claws, I ducked and retrieved the weapon from the Forsaken I had just slain and brought it up in time to parry a swift downward strike from another animated corpse. I pushed hard and it stumbled backwards. Before it could recover, I swung the sword, catching it across the stomach and then driving the sword into its chest.
I turned back to Liam. He stood there uncertainly for a moment. “I’m still not sure if you’re alive or dead…human or worgen…” he muttered, nearly incoherently. “I’m not even really sure If I’m awake.”
“This is real, Prince Liam,” I assured him. “What should we do?”
“Seems to me like we’re going to have to kill a great many of these motherless Forsaken, then,” he shouted confidently. “Hold this!” he requested, tossing the broken and blood-covered bottle to me. I stared down at it uncertainly for a moment before unceremoniously dropping it to the floor. When I looked back up the prince had procured a large musket from somewhere. “I’m going to have to work hard at not shooting you,” he announced. “But I’ll do my best.” That’s a happy thought. “Now let’s give them hell!”
The prince and the guards began fighting back with a new fervor. The sound of their rifles were nearly deafening. I took a moment to take in the battlefield. There were probably only about a dozen Forsaken, not including the ones that had been killed. It was a surprisingly small attack force…a scouting party, maybe? There was movement in the trees between the town and the farmlands, but I couldn’t be sure what they were.
This shouldn’t be too bad. I prayed Mayor Armstead could rally the militia before the main Forsaken forces reached Duskhaven. I yanked the sword out of the chest of the Forsaken corpse and charged forward to join the fray.
I darted past Prince Liam and leapt on top one Forsaken scum, knocking it down and pinning it to the ground with my knees. Before it or any of its friends could stop me, I took the sword and plunged the blade into its shoulder, right at the base of the neck.
I tugged on the hilt of the blade, but it was stuck. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and rolled to the side just in time to avoid an enormous axe coming down where my neck had been – instead, decapitating the Forsaken’s fallen ally.
The Forsaken that had been wielding the vicious, skull-ornamented axe was wiry and frail. It was a wonder it could even pick the thing up. I jumped to my feet, slammed my body weight into the new attacker, knocking it away from its weapon. I hoisted up the weapon and threw the whole of my body into a massive horizontal swing. A moment later, the upper half of the unarmed Forsaken fell backward while the rest of it fell to its knees, collapsing forward. A strange, foul-smelling liquid spurted from its body which may, at some point, have been blood.
I could feel a strange fury growing inside me. It was different from the rage I remembered from the months the curse controlled me, but it was something I knew I had felt before. It was the same ferocity from the last stand at Light’s Dawn. But it was…augmented. This body, for all that I hated about it, was faster and stronger than I ever was before. Was this just another part of the curse? Is this how it feels when I get riled up? But the voice of the curse was silent.
A bullet suddenly whizzed by my ear and I fell to the ground, taking a defensive position. After a moment, I looked up. “Sorry!” I heard the slurred apology above the ringing in my poor ears. I wondered if he only missed because he was undeniably foxed. Then again, it’s possible that was also the reason he took the shot in the first place. At least, that’s what I hoped.
I shook my head and looked around. There were only a couple Forsaken scouts left. I dashed towards the closest, brought the axe over my head and brought it down with as much strength as I could muster right onto its head. The blade made it to the creature’s belly button before coming to a stop. I let go of the shaft of the axe and let it fall with the newly re-dead body. As it collapsed to the ground, another quake rumbled through.
The seething rage and power coursed through me as I stared down the last Forsaken invader that was within reach of me. It girted its yellow teeth and brandished its pair of wicked swords at me, seemingly not intimidated by what I had just done to his allies. I let out a threatening growl and darted towards him. It was almost as if my body was reacting on its own…there was a bloodlust in me that it needed to sate.
The Forsaken started swinging his weapons wildly. I danced to the side and managed to get around behind him. I sank my right-hand claws into his shoulder as my sizeable left claws gripped his skull.
“Death to the living!” the Forsaken gasped with a dry, airy voice of defiance.
Without saying a word, I forcibly removed his head from his shoulders, tossing it to the ground with a dull thud. I was breathing heavily as I started to calm myself down. What was that? It was like I had gone completely berserk, but I still felt in control on some level. Was this just some new part of the curse? It felt good – natural. A shiver ran down my spine. Why did that feel so good?
A deep, gurgling roar resounded from the trees. “What in blazes was that?” Prince Liam wondered.
We turned towards the trees and quickly found the answer to his question. A massive shadow emerged. This new creature was at least twice my height…maybe three of me…and about five times as wide. Its skin was not uniformly colored across its body, as if the bodies of several different people were stitched together to make the monstrosity. I could even see staples holding slabs of flesh together. It had multiple arms, each one carrying a gigantic weapon more horrible than the next. The ones that most quickly caught my attention was the blood-stained meat cleaver with a blade the size of my torso and the massive meat-hook with a long iron chain hanging from it. Its distended belly was split open to reveal pulsating innards and oozed with some foul liquid. The smell of the thing hit me like a sledgehammer beyond the stench of the already-dead Forsaken. It lumbered towards us, making grunts and gurgling noises with each monstrous step.
“It’s a bloody abomination,” Liam gasped. “Ready, men…fire!” he commanded. I managed to cover my ears in time as they fired a volley of bullets into the awful creature. I could see holes appear where the bullets pierced the flesh, but the thing didn’t seem to mind, it just kept lurching forward.
The axe I had just discard lay on the ground nearby, still partially buried in a body. I ran over and lifted it, turning on the enormous enemy as he closed in. It looked down at me and let out a burbling chuckle.
“Puny doggie,” it laughed. Its voice was slow and it had a speech impediment. It licked its cile lips. “What think you do with that?” He threw out his meat-hook and then yanked it back the moment it passed my axe. He wrenched it from my hands and I stood there, unarmed.
I took a nervous step back, trembling as I stared up at the sewn-together behemoth that was trudging in my direction. The prince’s men opened up with another salvo of rifle fire, but the abomination didn’t even flinch. My eyes kept darting from weapon to weapon; there was no way I could track all of them when it came close. If it were slow, I might have a chance, but I didn’t want to risk that.
“Naomi!” the prince yelled, grabbing my attention. I quickly turned to see what he wanted. He stood just up the hill with a barrel wedged under his foot. “Throw this at him! I’ll take care of the rest,” he commanded as he pushed the barrel towards me.
I grabbed it as it neared me. It was filled with something; I could smell it. But, with all of the other putrid scents in the air, I had trouble figuring out what it was. I wasn’t going to spend too much time questioning it. I spun back around and faltered for a second. The fleshy giant had crossed a surprising amount of ground in the couple of seconds.
I hope this works. If it didn’t, I would have to break more promises. With as much strength as I could muster, I flung the barrel towards the abomination. It soared through the air before coming crashing down on the thing’s head. Its skull burst through the cap and I could see black powder trickling out of it.
“What? Get back here!” it roared in rage, its voice comically muffled by the barrel. I started flailing its weapons around, lashing out with its weapons while charging forward. I scrambled to get away from it. As I ran up towards Duskhaven, I saw Prince Liam take aim with his blunderbuss.
I dove forward, quickly pressing my hands over my ears just as Liam opened fire. My hands did little to shield my hearing from the blast that followed. I could feel the blast reverberate through my bones, as if my very soul was rumbling. I hit the ground hard, sliding along the dirt.
I couldn’t hear anything but a high-pitched ringing. Moments later, something wet rained down on me. With a groan, and arms shaking, I pushed myself back up onto my paws. My balance was off and it felt like the world was spinning. I took a couple of uncertain steps, holding my head.
Prince Liam ran up to me, a wide grin on his face. I could see his mouth moving but I couldn’t hear a word he was saying.
“What?” I yelled. I don’t know why I shouted; he was right in front of me. The ringing started to subside a bit.
Liam pointed behind me and I turned. The stitched horror was gone and there were chunks or rotten meat and gunk everywhere. I had a sinking feeling I knew what it was that had fallen on me moments before. I twisted around to inspect myself. Sure enough, I could find little bits of something nasty resting in my fur. There was a larger string of muscle hanging off my shoulder that made me cringe as I brushed it off me.
“Are you okay?” I heard Liam ask. His voice sounded muffled – far away – but I could hear him.
The stench was too much. I held up a hand before turning away. Thank the Light I didn’t eat any breakfast. I started gagging and dry heaving. After a couple of minutes, I stood up straight and took several deep breaths. The ringing was almost completely gone now. “I’m fine,” I finally gasped.
“Well done! We got the bastard,” Liam exclaimed. “I’m glad you’re on our side. I’m glad I missed,” he added with an apologetic grin.
“I’m glad you missed, too.”
“We’ve repelled them for now, but that couldn’t have been much more than scouts,” he pointed out.
I turned and stared off towards the coast. I could see movement in the distance. The Forsaken were unloading troops and war machines from their ships. This was only the beginning of it all. The ground shook yet again. Dark clouds gathered overhead. While that was in no way peculiar for the region, it was strange how quickly and thickly they gathered. The world is going to hell.
“You’ve earned yourself a rest,” Liam stated, tentatively placing a hand on my shoulder. “Head back to Duskhaven and get yourself cleaned up.”
I wasn’t going to argue. I simply nodded and walked past him towards the buildings. My entire body was already sore. That was definitely not a pleasant way to start a morning. But I was sure the militia would be able to hold back the Forsaken. I mean…a drunken prince, a worgen, and a handful of guards held their own pretty well.
The streets were largely empty. I imagined most people were hiding out in their homes to avoid the battle. The smell of the undead followed me; I couldn’t wait to wash the putrid blood and junk our out of my fur. I made my way slowly towards my new home, fantasizing about the hot bath contraption Mayor Armstead had shown me.
“Miss Naomi,” Mayor Armstead called. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This can’t be good.
I turned to face her as she ran up to me, making sure to look as exhausted as possible. “Yes?” I sighed.
“I’m sorry, but Lord Godfrey has demanded that all worgen report to him,” she informed me. It was worse than I thought. Lord Godfrey… “The others have gone on ahead. He is leading the attack near the Forsaken’s landing area. I’ve been told he has commandeered the storm cellar in the Allen Farmstead, to the far west,” she explained. “Seek him there.”
“Do I have to?” I whined. I didn’t want to deal with Lord Godfrey today. And I definitely didn’t want to join the battle in the front line. I’m not a soldier.
“I know we’re asking a lot of you, but…you’re the only one of the worgen we’ve saved that has an ounce of actual combat experience. We need your help,” she almost pleaded. “Please, go see what you can do to help out. But don’t take any unnecessary risks and do what you can to stay safe.” She seemed sincerely apologetic.
I sighed. She had a point. I felt a strange need to go simply to make sure the others like me were alright. Knowing Godfrey, I feared the worst. I nodded weakly, accepting the request.
“Excellent…more slaughter. Maybe this time we can turn it on these awful humans. You know they’ll just kill you when you’re no longer useful. Especially Godfrey. You saw the look in his eyes. He wants you dead. He wants all of us dead.”
“Thank you. You never seem to fail when Gilneas needs a hero. I pray that things end better for you this time around.”
“Me too,” I muttered as I moved past her. I stopped. “If something happens, please tell my father this wasn’t my choice,” I requested before heading almost directly west towards the farm she’d mentioned. My body throbbed in a sort of dull protest. I could still go for a while, yet, but it was making its complaints known.
The clouds overhead had nearly completely blotted out the morning sun, making it seem almost as though it were nighttime. The ground shook once more. The low rumble of the earthquake was echoed in the sky. Shortly after I made it outside of the town, the skies opened up with steady rainfall. Maybe this will wash away some of the nastiness.
As I ventured further west, I could hear the sounds of battle. There were intermittent explosions as well. I stopped and surveyed the coast. “By the Light,” I gasped in horror. There were a number of large catapults sitting near the docks and in the decimated fields launching flaming barrels that seemed impervious to the rain. They seemed to be launching them randomly into the farmland further inward; they didn’t care what they hit. And that was where I was headed.
Every ounce of reason told me to turn around, run back to Duskhaven, and hide. But I kept moving forward. If I had a chance to do something, I almost felt obligated to try to save some lives. I didn’t know any of the other worgen, personally, but I still had this strange sense of duty to make sure they were okay. With every step towards the coast, these feelings grew, slowly growing to match my increasing fear.
I came to the western-most farms. There were two farms houses near each other; one had fields of tall corn while the other had livestock. I could see sheep and horses scurrying around the pens on the northeastern end of the far house, unable to escape their containment. I wouldn’t be surprised if they broke down the fence soon.
Against the side of one house, there was a large, open cellar door. Militiamen with their guard dogs stood on either side of the entrance. This must be the place. At first, they raised their rifles at me as I approached – the dogs started growling – but they lowered their firearms when they noticed how hesitantly I approached.
“Another one, eh?” one grunted with a strange grin when I reached the stairs down to the cellar. He and the other guard exchanged looks. “Lord Godfrey is down below. Go seen what assignment he has for you.”
I stepped past them and entered the cellar, listening to each step creak and groan beneath my weight. A projectile from a Forsaken catapult hit nearby and I could feel the vibrations through the floor. Shortly thereafter, an earthquake rattled the walls, knocking bits of dust and rubble loose from the ceiling.
As I stepped down onto the cellar floor, I spun and stopped as I discovered more guns pointed at me. There were a half-dozen militiamen in the cellar. Lord Godfrey stood in the back corner. There were two women in another corner, one with dark hair and one red-head. The seemed out of place and terrified. One appeared to be on the verge of hysterics; she seemed to struggle not to start sobbing.
I waited, not daring to make a move. Lord Godfrey stared at me. I could tell he recognized me behind those circular glasses. I wondered if he was seriously contemplating having the guards shoot me. “Well, if it isn’t Greymane’s favorite little…pet,” he sneered. Even if he wanted to use it, I doubted he bothered to know my name. As far as he was concerned, I died in Light’s Dawn. “By the Light, don’t you things bathe? I can smell you from here.”
Anger bubbled up in me at his comments. I wanted to growl, but I knew what would happen if I did. Those guards looked ready to put holes in me at the slightest gesture from their lord. I was powerless to confront him about it.
After what felt like forever, he laughed. “Stand down, men. This one may be more useful,” he commanded. More useful? What happened to the others? I approached Lord Godfrey, staring down at him, hoping my natural size would do the intimidating that I so desperately wanted to communicate. “No hard feelings, worgen. You might be a feral killing machine, but it looks like you’re with us…for now.”
I hated every time he added that ‘for now.’ It tugged on a deep, deep terror that I would eventually lose control of myself again. And it further drove a wedge between me and the non-infected humans. It pushed my future further and further away from Daniel.
“You see, we barely have enough men to hold them back. Drastic measures had to be taken. You were a Gilnean, once,” he continued, not skipping the opportunity to twist the knife. “So, you and your kind have been enlisted to help bolster our ranks.” He paused for a moment, surveying me from snout to paws. He seemed to be trying very hard to suppress a grimace.
“I’m not going to lie, worgen. I don’t like the idea of having your kind among our ranks. Who knows how long ‘til Krennan’s concoction wears off and you’re trying to chomp one of our heads off. It’s a foolish risk,” he continued. Lord Godfrey let out a loud sigh. “Until that time, however, we can make ample use of your ferocity. I want you to go out in the battlefield and kill as many as you can, in as brutal a way as you can. We’re going to put the fear of the worgen in them,” he told me with a wicked smile.
“Wh-Where are the others?” I asked, unsure if I wanted to know the answer.
He actually chuckled. “Well, that brings me to the next point. Killing the soldiers isn’t enough. The Forsaken catapults are kicking the snot out of us,” he mentioned. My heart sank as my mind connected what that meant.
“They’re already dead, aren’t they?” I asked grimly. My nose started to sting again.
“Probably,” Lord Godfrey shrugged. He didn’t seem the least bit torn up about it.
“Let me tear him up for you then.”
“Given what they are, it’s the deepest honor for them to die actually trying to defend their homeland one last time. Now, about those troops and catapults…I’ve a plan to kill two birds with one stone. You’re the stone.” He seemed very pleased with his plan.
I was less pleased. He could have tried to pretend this wasn’t a suicide mission. I knew I wasn’t going to like this. I quickly figured out what Godfrey’s overarching plan was: use the worgen to soften up the Forsaken before sending in his other soldiers. He hated us, and this way he could get rid of us without risking his own men. He seemed to be all about killing two birds with one stone.
Before I could think of anything to say to Lord Godfrey, the woman with dark hair made a dash for the stairs. “Stop her!” Lord Godfrey commanded. In an instant, two militiamen grabbed hold of her and dragged her back to the corner.
“No! Please! I need to find my babies!” she screeched as the guards detained her. She dissolved into loud sobs.
I stared from her to Godfrey and back. Without so much as a goodbye, I walked away from Godfrey and approached the crying woman. She stared up at me, frightened and startled. I crouched down so that I was smaller than her. “What’s your name?” I inquired as gently as I could. I don’t know why I felt the need to talk to her; maybe I was drawn to people who showed emotions other than contempt.
“Melinda Hammond,” she managed to respond. “From…from the farm next door.”
“What’s wrong? Is someone still out there?” I questioned sincerely.
She nodded sorrowfully. “The military will not allow me outside the cellar, but my children are still in my farm! Please, if you’re going out there, you must go find them. These Forsaken…they have no regard for innocent life! They’ll be killed if they’re found!” she cried.
In my mind, this was a much more important job than the insanity Lord Godfrey was asking me to accomplish. After all, Godfrey never expected me to succeed. This was something I could do to at least do something useful…before I die. “I’ll find them,” I promised her. “What are their names?”
Her face lit up with hope. “Cynthia, Ashley, and James! Oh, thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed. “If you bring them to me, I’ll be forever in your debt.”
“I’ll do what I can.” I turned towards Godfrey who was watching me with a disgusted look on his face. He must not have liked me showing more humanity than him. With an aggravated snort, I turned and marched to the stairs and out of the cellar.
I re-emerged into the rain. It was fitting weather for my task, mirroring my expectations for the eventual outcome. I wondered what they would tell my father…if they would tell Daniel anything. I shook my head. I needed to focus. I needed to find those children. I could mourn my coming death once they were safe.
I hurried over to the farmhouse next door. I began sniffing the air; the rain suppressed any particular scent and the air still smelled full of death and decay. I slowly prowled around the outside of the home looking for any sign of the children.
As I rounded the northern corner of the house, I came to a pumpkin patch. There was a young boy hiding amongst the crops, peering up every so often as if searching the corn fields to make sure it was safe. He looked to be about eight. That must be James. I quickly bridged the gap between us.
As I neared, he heard me and spun around. His eyes widened and he tried to back away, but he tripped over a vine and fell onto his butt. “Please! Don’t hurt me! I was just looking for my sisters!” James cried.
I knelt down near him. “I’m not here to hurt you,” I assured him. “Your mother’s in the basement next door. She’s worried sick about you,” I told the child.
“But…my sisters,” he started.
I reached forward and helped him to his feet. “I’ll find them. Do you know where either of them are?” I questioned.
“I…I think Ashley’s inside the house,” he responded.
“You’re a brave kid,” I told him. “But I need you to go to your mother. It should be safe to run from here.” I gave him a gentle push to get him on his way. Well that was easy. I could only hope the rest of the children would be that simple to send to their mother.
I continued to creep around the house. As I reached the next corner, I nearly tripped over a body. I gazed down and immediately cupped my hands over my mouth. One of the poor worgen hadn’t made it very far from the Allens’ cellar. He lay still, deep wounds sliced into his arms and side. The Forsaken had to be nearby. I placed my hand carefully on the worgen’s shoulder. Be at peace. I prayed the Light would be merciful on the poor, cursed person.
I couldn’t let myself get side tracked. I closed my eyes only for a moment to collect myself before continuing. I could hear sounds coming from inside the house like someone was throwing things around.
As I came to the front door, I found it torn off its hinges. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I heard a vile voice sing. I crouched down, trying to keep myself as hidden as possible as I crept into the house. There was a thin Forsaken soldier tearing the house apart. “I know you’re in here, little girl,” he called.
This wasn’t children being killed through collateral damage. This was a despicable creature hunting children for fun. An unparalleled rage surged through me. I charged forward, vaulting over a table to get on top of the undead soldier. I tackled it to the ground and pressed my paw onto its back to pin it in place. I was growling menacingly, but couldn’t bring myself to say anything to it. I grabbed the Forsaken by both wrists and pulled, pushing down harder with my paw.
It screamed in pain as I pulled. I could feel the bones popping out of their sockets. With one mighty yank, I ripped the vile creature’s arms clear off its body. I stepped off, tossing the arms casually to the side, and rolled it over onto its back. Its face was contorted with a mix of pain and hatred. “You filthy mongrel. Just you wait until the Banshee Queen gets your soul,” it threatened.
I snarled and sliced its throat open. I stood over it until it stopped moving altogether. I perked my ears up, trying to detect evidence of any other intruders in the house. I heard a quiet thump upstairs – too light to be one of these things. I hopped up the stairs to investigate. All of the doors were open except for one. I went there first.
As I opened the door, I heard the faintest of whimpers. I walked slowly through the room, sniffing the air again. My ears tracked the sounds. Soon enough, I found a young girl standing between the wardrobe and the wall, clutching herself protectively.
As she saw me, she tried to back further into the corner. I just stood there, assuming it would be less threatening to simply be still. “Ashley?” I eventually called, remembering the name James had mentioned. She looked to be about five or six.
“Are you…are you one of the good worgen, ma’am?” she asked cautiously.
I nodded and the girl started to inch out of her hiding spot. “Your mother and brother are waiting for you in the basement next door. Come on, I’ll take you there,” I explained.
“But what about Cynthia?” Ashley argued shyly.
“Do you know where she is?”
“Before these scary things showed up, she was playing out by the sheds,” Ashley informed me. Outside? By the Light, I hope she’s found a good hiding spot. After assuring her I’d find her sister, Ashley followed me out of the room, down the stairs and out the house. I escorted her to the open space between the two farmhouses and told her to run for the cellar door. I watched after her until the militiamen caught sight of her and could ensure her safety.
I spun around and ran towards the crop fields. Tall stalks of corn shot up from the ground, but hadn’t yet grown above my eye-level. I could see a couple of small tool sheds on the other side of the field. Again, I sniffed the air; the smell of death was strong. I was sure there were undead hiding amongst the corn.
Instead, I took the long way around, sprinting along the outside of the field. I caught movement out of the corner of my eyes and stopped briefly to dispatch the Forsaken that stepped out to ambush me. It took me only a minute to reach the sheds. Before going in, I stood and stared at the field of crops, inspecting every little detail, looking for threats that might try to attack me while I looked for the last of the Hammond children. After an extensive sweep, I decided to enter the shed.
It was dry in the shed, save for the areas where I was cascading water onto the ground. Nothing had come in here since the rain started. Maybe she is safe…assuming she’s in here. “Hello? Cynthia?” I called out softly. “Are you in here?”
I caught the slightest glimpse of movement in the back of the shed – a small, terrified eye disappearing behind some barrels. I made my way through the shed, carefully stepping around tools and equipment. I peered around the barrels and found a very young child – maybe about three years old – curled up and quivering violently. Her face was in her knees.
“Thank the Light, you’re safe,” I sighed.
At the sound of my voice, the girl looked at me with horror-stricken eyes and scurried as far into the corner as she could. My ears fell, knowing full-well what she was afraid of.
I crouched down low to the ground and sat still. It worked for her sister. “I’m here to save you from the scary zombies,” I told her in as gentle and natural a voice as I could possibly manage.
“But…you are scary!” she cried with an innocent sob. “I just want my mommy!”
“I’m going to take you to your mommy,” I promised. Understandably, the little girl still didn’t move. We don’t really have time for this. I took a deep breath to maintain my patience. “Cynthia,” I called out again. I rolled up the saturated sleeve of my chemise and held out my arm, bringing it to a rest. Thank the Light no one is around to see this. “Cynthia, do you want to see how soft I am?” I offered, hopefully. I could feel my cheeks heating up.
After a moment, the little girl looked up and stared at my arm. Cautiously, she reached out and placed a tiny hand on the side of my arm, her delicate fingers sinking into the fur. “You’re wet,” she pointed out, running her hand up and down my forearm.
“Well it’s raining outside, silly,” I responded playfully.
Cynthia came closer, placing both hands on my arm. “You’re like my doggie!” she stated, almost entranced by my fur. I felt a little pang of sadness. There was no dog in the cellar or anywhere I could see on the grounds. I think I know what happened to her dog.
“Your mommy’s waiting for you. Can I bring you to her?” I requested. After a moment, the little girl gave me a small nod. “I’m going to pick you up. I want you to put your arms around me and close your eyes, okay? No matter what you hear, I want you to keep your eyes closed.” I didn’t want her possibly seeing any of the horrors that were out there.
She nodded again and I carefully hoisted her up after counting to three. As I brought her near my shoulder, she wrapped her arms around my neck, her hands coming to rest in the back of my mane.
“Are you ready? No peaking!” I inquired. I could feel her nod into my shoulder. “Okay, here comes the rain,” I warned. I took a deep breath and bolted out of the shed and dashed to the side of the field. I didn’t look behind me, but I could hear at least one thing giving chase. By the sounds of its footsteps and its odor, it had to be a Forsaken soldier. I can outrun it. I have to outrun it. If I didn’t, it would do unspeakable things to this defenseless little girl.
I rounded the corner of the house and bolted for the cellar door, shouting above the rain and waving with my free arm to get the militiamen’s attention. Finally, they noticed me and whatever was pursuing me. They raised their rifles. For once, I could tell by the angle it wasn’t intended for me.
I skidded to a halt and ducked, cradling the girl in my arms as the soldiers opened fire. Cynthia screamed, but I gave her a gentle squeeze to reassure her. Carefully, I set her down on her two little feet. “Get this little one to her mother,” I told one of the guards.
“You’re not coming?” she asked, staring up at me with pleading eyes.
I knelt down close to her. Little kids really are amazing. They can bounce back from anything. “Not yet. There are more people I have to help. Now you go in there and keep your mommy safe, okay?” I wanted her to remember me as a hero; at least someone would.
It was difficult, but I walked away, back towards the Hammond farmstead. I stopped and looked back in time to see one of the guards pick Cynthia up and carry her down the cellar stairs. At least I was able to do this one thing.
The rain slowed and eventually came to little more than a drizzle. The sky overhead was still menacingly dark, so I knew it was going to come back in full force – and soon – but I was grateful for the brief respite. I was completely waterlogged. My clothes clung to my body uncomfortably; I could see horrible stains on my white blouse. There was no saving it and it was only confining at this point. Certain that no one would be watching, I tore it off, exposing my fur-covered torso and breasts. While my fur was still waterlogged, it felt liberating to be out of the drenched shirt.
I was able to get a good look at the coast as I passed by one of the farmhouses. The two massive warships sat just far enough away from the docks that I wouldn’t be able get there easily. Their cannons were quiet but pointed menacingly at the farms. On the ground, there were about a half-dozen catapults in total; they weren’t many in number, but they were certainly doing a number on the farmlands. I could see small groups of Forsaken soldiers marching around the paths and fields. They didn’t stray too far from the catapults.
I crouched low, hoping to stay hidden amongst the remaining crops and tall grass as I made my approach. My heart was already racing. A new commitment swelled within me. If I fail, they’ll reach the farmhouse. They’ll kill those children. I had to succeed.
As I neared the catapults, stopping every few feet to make sure I hadn’t been spotted, I came across a gruesome scene. In one of the fields that had been completely burned down, I found the lifeless bodies of the other worgen Lord Godfrey had sent before me. Some of the wounds looked like they were made by smaller blades, while some of the bodies were so mangled that they almost had to have been hit by the catapults.
There was a group of Forsaken gathered around in the center of the field, standing by the scarecrow. They were yelling and laughing, as if celebrating. It would be easy enough to sneak past them and make it to the catapults without alerting them. But…
I made the mistake of inspecting the gathering and noticed that the scarecrow wasn’t a scarecrow. They had strung up a worgen’s body on the wooden post. They were throwing things at the body – rocks, knives, whatever they could get their bony little fingers on. I began to shake with anger. Why would they do that to the poor thing? Wasn’t killing her enough? There was no reason in it. Before I knew what was going on, I was sprinting on all fours towards the group.
I launched myself at the closest soldier, tackling him to the ground while driving my claws deep into it. What followed was a furious flurry of claws and steel. I was so blinded with rage, it felt as though my body was acting all on its own, mercilessly ripping them to shreds as I ducked and dodged away from their attacks. The next thing I knew, I was standing in front of the crucified worgen in the center of a circle of freshly flayed corpses.
I didn’t question it; I was too distracted by the poor person strung up in front of me. She had been stripped naked and I could see multiple cuts and open wounds. There was a dagger sticking out of her thigh – probably from where one had been taking target practice. She was eerily familiar. I vaguely recognized the brown fur. Then it hit me: she was the worgen who had brought me some clothing the day I returned to civilized society.
With a heavy heart, I cut her down from the post and laid her on the ground, crossing her arms across chest. I spent some time moving each of the worgen in the area and positioning them in a similar fashion. I could feel my eyes tearing up more and more with each body. I stood over the line of bodies and surveyed each one, committing each furry face to memory. They just wanted to go back to living some semblance of a normal life, and they were sent to their deaths in order to protect those fortunate enough to avoid the curse.
Am I the last of my kind? The last of the reclaimed worgen? I wondered how long it would be before I, too, shared their fate. I could feel the despair building up to the bursting point. I hunched over, my mind running wild and imagining what their lives could have been like after some time had passed. Maybe the other Gilneas had accepted them back into society. Maybe they could have been happy. At last, it was too much and I had to let out some of my sorrow. I arched my back, throwing my eyes to the sky and let out a long, mournful howl.
When I stopped, I turned my eyes to the coast. I had drawn quite a bit of attention to myself. There were undead soldiers charging towards me and I could see the catapults starting to turn. I wasted no time in charging towards them, a strong rage taking over me again.
I went completely berserk as I plowed into the Forsaken forces. It felt vaguely like the curse had taken over again, but – at the same time – somehow different. My body just moved, lashing out with my powerful claws, wrenching weapons from the enemies’ hands, and using them to cut down others. I lunged out of the way of flaming barrels being launched by the catapults as I closed in on the war machines. Some of them were near misses and the pungent scent of seared fur stung my nose above the ever-present stench of the animated corpses attacking me. I launched myself at the operator of the first catapult and ripped into him using a sword I had stolen from one unlucky – and now headless – soldier. A moment later, I heard something large whipping through the air and hopped out of the way in time to see the catapult getting leveled by one of the others.
When it was all finished and I was standing near a veritable mountain of corpses, the rage began to subside. I was panting hard, covered in awful, putrid crap once again, and wondering what the hell had come over me. I thought I was in control. Was Krennan’s serum already wearing off? I’d only taken it a few hours before. I was no stranger to an enraged beast holding sway over my body, but this was different. This time…I wanted what my body wanted. I wanted the bloodshed. My anger turned to fear. Was I changing to become more like the curse? Maybe Krennan’s treatment gave me control back, but if I started thinking like the beast, then I would truly be lost. I can’t let that happen.
I turned my attention towards the Forsaken ships. I’m not a beast. I’m a person. I doubted Lord Godfrey imagined I would get this far. I would prove to him – and to myself – that I wasn’t some piece of cannon fodder to sacrifice. My mind started formulating a plan.
I ran over to one of the few functioning catapults and strained to spin it around towards the warships. Once it looked like it was in position, I grabbed a large rock and hopped into the basket of the catapult. I knew nothing of how these things were aimed. This has got to be the worst plan I’ve ever come up with. I threw the rock at the firing lever.
My stomach nearly leapt into my throat as the arm of the catapult sprung into motion and I was launched into the air. I’m going to die! I’m going to die! While soaring over the docks, I imagined every horrible way this could go wrong – every gruesome way I could end up as little more than a crumpled mass on the side of one of those vicious ships.
But by some amazing display of providence, I ended up colliding with the sail. Instinctively, I dug my claws into the fabric as I started to fall. It slowed me enough to keep me from breaking anything by the time I reached the deck. I wasn’t going to be doing anything like that again. I’d keep my paws on solid ground from now on.
I heard frantic yelling as an undead wearing a captain’s uniform came running at me from the cabin, waving a sword at me. I nearly laughed as he closed in. He didn’t have a chance and I dispatched him quickly. This ship was without its leadership.
I started to go down the stairs into the underbelly of the ship. There were eerily-glowing cobwebs everywhere in the dark stairwell. As I made it down below, I stopped. There were still way more undead on this ship than I had expected, standing near the cannons. They all turned to face me and we stared at each other, stunned, for a few seconds. I don’t think they were expecting anything could get on the ship. There wasn’t nearly enough room for me to hop around and dodge, and I hadn’t had to face this many all at once yet. I…I think killing the captain was enough. My fear got the better of me and I bolted back up the stairs. I could hear them clamoring behind me to give chase.
Before too long, I threw myself overboard and dove into the water below. As I surfaced and treaded, I looked back up at the ship and could see several decrepit faces staring down at me. They started throwing things and I quickly swam out of range, making my way to the shore.
I scrambled onto land and immediately made a run for the Allen Farmstead. I had thinned the forces in the area, but there were still many, many enemies left. I slowed myself as I approached the cellar as not to provoke a response from the guards. I was still breathing hard as I descended the stairs.
“You’re alive?” Lord Godfrey exclaimed the moment I walked down the stairs. He seemed surprised. “Did you just turn tail and run, then?”
I recounted what had happened, occasionally throwing glances over at the other corner where Melinda Hammond held her children close to her. Cynthia stared at me and I tried to smile without scaring her again.
“I want to say you’re lying, but I can’t hear the catapults anymore,” Lord Godfrey commented. “You might be a bloody beast, but you’re our beast,” he added with an approving nod. I took that to be his way of giving me a compliment: commend me for my actions while still reminding me of the curse that threatened to take over again. “Excellent work so far…worgen.” I could tell from the look on his face he did not enjoy saying that. “I’ll let the militia know to move in.”
“Can I go home yet?” I asked, becoming acutely aware of my muscles’ protests.
“I wouldn’t call it a home so much as a temporary kennel, but no, you may not,” he responded. “Our scouts have identified the leader of the Forsaken ground assault. One of Sylvanas’ handpicked dark rangers is overseeing the battlefront from the Walden house near the shore. Take her out and we will cut off the head of the beast.”
It sounded so simple, but I knew it wouldn’t be. I had heard of Sylvanas and her dark rangers through the books my father had brought me over the years. They were a completely new class of undead – fierce and deadly assassins who loved to coat their arrows in dark and deadly poisons. Maybe if I could get the jump on her…
“Then am I done?” I questioned.
“Watch your tone,” Godfrey warned. “Do this and you will be one step closer to doing your fair part in this battle.” And what have you done, you old fogey? You hide down here and command people to die! I wanted to say it, but I knew it would get me shot.
With a frustrated sigh, I turned and left the cellar. I began to head south before one of the guards stopped me. It was the one I had handed Cynthia to earlier. “Excuse me, Miss,” he started. There was a strange absence of loathing in his voice. “I couldn’t help but overhear he’s sending you after the Forsaken leader.” I nodded. “You don’t want to engage her alone.” The guard handed me a long, thin whistle. “Use this when you get close to her. We’ll let loose the attack mastiffs to take her down.”
“Th-thank you,” I responded, gazing down at the whistle. Was someone actually trying to help me? Someone other than my father and Daniel, that is.
“I saw what you did for that woman and her children. I don’t care what Lord Godfrey says; you’re not bad.”
Again, I attempted to smile, hoping that flashing my teeth wasn’t too menacing. I spun and ran off before I did something stupid. I ran south towards the shore again. The Forsaken presence was much thinner here and I was able to avoid most all of them. The ground continued to rumble, each quake becoming more intense than the last. Soon, I could hear the distant sounds of battle as the militia finally engaged the remaining Forsaken in open battle.
Before long, I saw the last building before the shoreline. There was someone seated on a horse of some kind in front of the house. I ducked low behind some bushes and peered over carefully. The figure was a woman wearing a dark, hooded cloak. From what I could see, her skin was grey and a pair of glowing red eyes pierced the shadows beneath the hood. Unlike the other Forsaken I had seen, I couldn’t see any rotting flesh or exposed bone. Even from this distance, the air felt a little bit colder. On her back was a quiver of black-feathered arrows and a long bow made of white bone. The horse she rode was dead – nothing more than an animated skeleton of a steed with massive horns and an eerie blue fire emanating from its hooves. There was a large blue cloth draped over the horse beneath the saddle, hiding what I assumed to be little more than a skeletal torso. That has to be the ranger.
I could see why the guard had recommended not engaging her alone. My body was quivering involuntarily. Her presence alone struck terror through me. I watched her eyes scanning the fields. My heart skipped a beat as those wicked eyes past over the bushes where I hid. Her eyes lingered on my hiding spot. I completely froze, hoping she wouldn’t see me.
In an instant, she reached up and pulled an arrow from her quiver and raised her bow. Oh crap. I rolled to the side the moment I realized what was going on, making sure to stay hidden behind the bushes. Just then, an arrow whizzed through the foliage – right where I had been crouched. The arrow stuck into the ground near my paws. I could see a dark mist rising from the shaft.
I didn’t dare peak over the bush again, lest I give her another target. I heard hooves on the cobblestone, slowly getting louder. Still shaking, I fumbled with the whistle before finally getting it into my mouth and blowing with as much force as I could force through my lungs.
The blast of the whistle pierced the relative silence. I winced; the high-pitched squeal hurt my ears, making it difficult to think clearly. The sound lingered for a moment after I stopped blowing, echoing across the sky. In the distance, I could hear the furious barking of the mastiffs.
“You cowardly Gilneans need to come out of hiding and face the horrors of this world,” the dark ranger taunted. Her voice was strange; she had a clear, deep voice but there was a darker whisper that seemed to be speaking simultaneously.
The barking rapidly became louder and louder. The sounds of the skeletal horse’s hooves were almost upon the bush. I readied my body to move at a moment’s notice. The dark ranger came into view, another arrow ready and primed on my hiding place. I dodged to the side as she loosed it.
“So they sent a beast after me. Do your kind ever tire of being sent like lambs to the slaughter?” she laughed, red eyes boring into me. She reached for another arrow from the quiver. “Worry not. You can die knowing the cowardice of the masters who hold your leash will be punished.” That voice was completely devoid of any emotion, save for contempt.
All of her attention was focused on me. The mastiffs were near; all I needed to do was distract her for a moment. I stood straight, staring into those eyes with defiance. “What has Gilneas ever done to you?” I challenged.
She scoffed. “It is what you didn’t do. When the undead scourge swept across the continent, Lordaeron called for help and Gilneas hid behind its wall. When Arthas and his ghouls razed Quel’Thalas, Silvermoon called for help and Gilneas hid behind its wall,” she spat. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the large hounds lumbering down the road. “You thought you were safe behind your wall; that you could cut out the ills of the world. We are the consequence…the retribution for decades of cowardice. We are…”
What else they were, I would never know. One of the massive mastiffs pounced and tackled her off her un-natural steed and pinned her to the ground. Before I knew it, the other dogs were on her. The sounds of the mastiffs ripping her apart with their powerful jaws were deeply disturbing, but nothing compared to the agonized shrieks the ranger let out as she was being devoured alive.
I closed my eyes and shuddered. She was a despicable aberration, but she still felt pain. Those chilling screams bored their way into my mind. I prayed I could unhear them, but I knew that couldn’t happen. As I walked away from the scene, I knew that this was going to haunt me for years to come.
I returned to the cellar. There were fewer militiamen inside; Lord Godfrey must have sent them to join the fight. The women and children were still there with the leader of the militia. I thought about what the ranger had said to me as I stared at Godfrey. He really did like to hide in safety while others went out to die on his behalf. I could feel anger starting to bubble up again but I tried to ignore it. I’m not going to lose control.
A militiaman was talking with Godfrey. When the nobleman saw me, he actually smiled. “I’ve just received word from my scouts…You did it! That should take the wind out of their sails,” he exclaimed. “You are proving to be a very useful weapon. Keep this up and people may actually come to like you,” he laughed.
I don’t know if what I felt was sadness or anger, but I really didn’t like the way he said it. It hurt to be so de-humanized, despite giving so much to protect people. But that reminded me of when I would go berserk and something different altogether took over my body. Part of me had to admit there was some truth in Godfrey’s jabs. I hated it.
I was exhausted, unsure if I would be able to handle another task. “Can I return to Duskhaven, yet?” I requested.
“I suppose even dogs deserve a treat from time to time. Take your respite,” he conceded with an air of condescension. “But stay where we can find you; I may have need…
Just then, a massive quake interrupted him. It was far worse than any of the rumblings from earlier. The sound of it was deafening and accompanied by a cacophony of horrific crashes. Amongst it all, I could hear screaming.
I ducked down and backed into an open corner, covering my head. I closed my eyes and started frantically trying to keep myself calm. I prayed the house over our head would not collapse on top of us. Would the ceiling hold?
I couldn’t help but imagine what was going on outside as the earthquake only became more and more violent. A tear pinched its way out of the corner of my clenched eyes. In my wildest thoughts, I could only reach one conclusion: Azeroth itself was falling apart, being torn asunder by the angered elements. It didn’t seem to end. I tucked my head in tighter to my knees. Gilneas had worked so hard to stay hidden from the world; to stay safe, but…
There was no hiding from the end of the world.
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Mind of Malm 