This is a number of short storys about a humen Shadow Priest namned Lester Dreakmore.
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On the run from the Law
"You are to bless the bones of this poor souls. Even thos marked "Heratic"... The Silver Hand was a bite over eger of daming this dead. They where after all following a King that had given himself to Gul'dan... But you would know all about that wouln't you brother Dreakmore" said the monk that had shown him the way down to the katakombs under the Cathedral.
"Yes... Yes I would brother... My sister was even forced to mate whit one of thos faul orc beings." Said Lester shaking his head.
"Oh, dear light... She wasn't namned Erina was she?" said the mock looking shaken.
"Indeed... She was killed... But at least I can bless her bone's so that she may join the Holy Light." said Lester whit a sad smile.
"Yes... Of corse... Well I'll leave you to your work then... Brother Dreakmore..." Said the monk and left him by himself.
Or so he thouth for the old monk had orders to stay and see if Lester Dreakmore really did what he was told to do. All of his family had followed the demonic cult called the Argus Wake. But when the Silverhand had come to his house they had fund all alters and idols broken and the priest Dreakmore had fallen to his knees and beged the paladins to spera him. He had insisted that he had never truly belived in the Argus Wake. But had that been the thruth?
The Archbishop feelt it had all been a lie. And now he hoped to find the prof he needed.
"The master is not going to like you calling him "Faul orc being"... Now is he?" catterd a voice that seam to come from nowhere.
"Come out where I can see you, Zeptip" hissed Lester and opend his mouth and a cloud of black smoke and gree flames came out of the man.
"So... Where is she? She is here right?" asked the imp.
"Yes... Tell your master that I'll have his beloved, my sister, taken to him soon." said the humen priest and broke open one of the coffin's and toke. He looked at the pale naked bones and bowed his head.
"Im sorry for not defending you sister... But don't worry, Master Demonvoice and I will return you to this world soon..." he whisperd to the bones and put them pice by pice in a black rune bag. The bag of a Necromancer.
He let the Imp enter him agen and left. But as he came out of the katakombs he was meat by two Paladin's of the Cathedral standing among them was Duthorian Rall looking down at Lester as if he had been a insekt that needed to be crushed.
"His Eminents is asleep Heratic Dreakmore. Your days of lieing and plotig are over! Give my your sisters bones and we'll..." here Duthorian was interupted by Lester kicking his right leg whit all his force making the mighty paladin lose his balance for a second. That was all it toke and the dark mystic ran out in to the night.
A few nights later
"Ye think he be tha one?" whisperd on of the two Moutiners to another as they sat at the inn in Kharanos. Pointing at a humen male siting not far from them.
"Eh? I donno... Let me see tha' poster agen..." Said the second one looking at the poster and then at the humen. "Hmm... Well, it could be him or not all humens look the same to me!"
"Aye, your right... Can we have some more malt over here?! We need some fire in our bellis when we go out agen! I frezing out there!" said the first Moutiner to the barmaid who got the pair more malt.
And the man they had been eyeing agreed. It was frezing, but not only outside but everywhere. And even so the only way for him to urn his keep was by doing tasks for the dwarfs, For some reson the littil breaded folk seamed obssesd whit hunting. Not that he minded that much, but the icy wind and wet snow he could do whit out.
But when one was ruing from the law... That would have to be seen as a minor inconvenient's. At least most dwarfs only gave him one glans and dismissted him as "Just another Humen". But soon someone would realize who he was and that he had a price on his head.
In the dead of night
The snow was frezning. On the other hand the snow made the night some what brigther. Holding a torch he found the spot. Here he was to meet his master, the orc who was the father of his niece. Standing there on the snow cowerd hill he could not help but wonder, was this the right thing?
Of corse he belived in the shadows and the holyness of the orcish bloodline's. But he had given so much for this. He was hunted and hated. He could never go back to Stormwind. He would be a exil for all times...
"There you are Grimm..." said a voice that sounded like a elder demon in eredun.
"Master Demonvoice!" said Lester in the same tongue and fell to his knee's in the snow.
"Do you have her bones?" said the elder orc warlock and heald out his hand.
"Yes... But master are you sure you can bring her back? I have risked all to get this bones"
"How dear you! She died for her belives! You bagged to be spared, you lied and betrayed the things you belived in! And now you dear to clame that you are a victim!?" roard the orc.
"N-no... of corse not... I-I just w-wanted to know if my work will bear fruit!" stuterd Lester in fear.
"Hmm... Well... She will riase agen... in time... I'll need many other magical items to restor her to life. Now hand over the bones!"
Lester Dreakmore toke out the black bag holding his sisters bones. Giving them to his orc master.
"Exelent..." said the elder orc, "Now return to the dwarfs. I'll send for you when I have a use for you..."
"As you comand..."
Memorys of the Dark-Blood Cult: Part 3
Lester Dreakmore deamed about that night agen. The night when the Silverhand came whit the armys of the Alliance at there back. The night when the Crusaders of the "Holy" Light killed his sister and his aged father. Indeed amost all of the nobels of Alterac. The night that he, whit fear for his own life, had turned his back on all he belived in.
Befor that night he had had it all. He had been a inqvisitor for the Alterac church. Which was to say that he was a inqvisitor of the Argus Wake. He had aided in the revolt in Tyr's Hand, he had stood on a hill and talked to the peasants. Telling them that there masters where sending there son's in to a war that could not be won.
He had been the crule persecutior of all in Alterac that did not bow there heads to the Wake. He was so hard in his judgment's that his peers started to call him "Grimmthrone". For as he was seated on his inqvisitor he saw to it that many unbeliver meet there death.
But then came that night. That fateful night when everything changed forever.
The Alliance had layed sige to the city for two days. And then the gates had fallen just befor night fall. Then all had gone wrong, the guard had not had a chance agenst the Silverhand and the Alliance soldiers. The orcs had not come to save them much's to Laster disappointment.
There was every man for himself now. There was only one thing to do...
"My Lord! We most get you out of here... Why are you topeling the Idol of the master?" young Frenriks had worked as Lester Dreakmores guard capitan for years and could hardly belive that his master had just pussed the Idol of Gul'dan of his pedestal and was now beating it whit a hammer.
"Good your here! Quick cut down standars!" comaned Lester.
"But... Why my Lord? Will it not ofend our orc masters!?"
"Do you see them! Huh!?! Are they here to save us!?! NO!!" screamed Grimmthrone in anger, taking a dagger and ripping the Shadow Council standars to pices.
"But my Lord... We could sitll run and live to fight our foes later... Thats what the Master would want!"
"You fool! Run to where! No, all we can do is make the Silverhand think we never belived!"
"But my Lord... How could we... I mean..."
"if your not going to help me... You'll just be in the way..." Said Grimm and cut open Frenriks throat.
Only a few minuts later he was on his knees befor one of the Silverhand paladins. His manor ablaze, and all evidence of him following the Wake was destroy. Well all evidence exept that of the witness's that knew the thruth. But as Lester swore lojalty to the Holy Light joining the ranks of the Holy church of Lorderon. And so he had turned his back to it all, his family killed or enslaved but the Alliance. His homeland turned in to ruins.
And so he had lived a lie in all this years from that day.