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 Closure.

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Othragon Rotarm

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Posts : 361
Join date : 2009-11-15
Age : 32
Location : Portugal

PostSubject: Closure.   Wed Feb 10, 2010 7:02 am

Buried under the ice, Othragon pondered.

Aiding Queen Sylvanas escape the Halls of Reflection, he was left behind when a massive block of ice fell over him, instantly trapping him under, unable to move. Days, weeks, he could not say. His body lied still but his mind frantically dwelled on the events prior to his icy burial. The moment had come and pass for him. He had finally been in the same room with their malefactor, the Lich King. As he readied his charge towards the tyrant, for the bitter end, his Queen was able to stun the Lich and hastly ordered everyone to flee. "Flee??!!" The time for revenge had finally come, and she wanted them to flee? Why endure the torment of Undeath a single more day? Why delay the confrontation that had led each step of his afterlife to this very moment? He could barely believe it. Such thoughts ravaged him, but the call of duty spoke higher (as if he had a choice), and he proceeded to aid her in the escapade. Then he was suddently buried and could not see or listen to anything. So he pondered.

Not on his undeath or choices he had made, wich is what sentenced to death persons often do. Though the shadow magic that animated him would not last forever, he would not perish of starvation or other illness that would break a human placed in his position. No, he pondered not about such details.. what really kept him awake under the ice was the burning desire for Revenge... was it really? His very own Queen had instilled him with thoughts of violence and hatred towards the living and the dead, sharpening him into what he was today, a fine tool of war. However that same Queen had betrayed her own principles, for the first time showing she cared more about her own hide then her purpose. Rotarm wasn't like that. He felt no joy in being an animated walking corpse. He endured many years as an outcast so he could push through with her revenge, her purpose, her design. She had granted him the afterlife so he could do so, and now she turned her back on each and every word she had ever whispered him.

This would not suffice. Rotarm too desired revenge, mostly over mankind, and by consequence, the Scourge, a byproduct of a man's failure, but unlike her, he would never flee. And the fact that he had done so as she commanded was eating him away. Almost as if being buried under ice was punishment for not having charged the wretched human prince. He would surely be destroyed, his own Queen was unable to face such opponent, but still he wouldn't feel as if he had betrayed himself. He would feel complete.

Days, weeks. Who knows? Rotarm surely didn't. Assailed by his own demons, he didn't even listened to the blasts and clangings from the nearby airships that raged war on each other, with powerfull cannons that blasted projectiles against the opponent. Faith or providence, the fact is one of these missiles missed his original target and came blazing the to the Citadel walls, clashing against the ice that kept Rotarm encarcerated, releasing him from his frosty tomb with a great blast that projected him several meters away from his original spot.

At first, he couldn't even move. His and his armor's joints frozen in place, completely dormant from the ice. All he could see was the distant battle that raged in the glacier's sky. He then knew what had released him, not even caring about the reason such battle went on. He was finally free, but no action came from his limbs. Was he really free? To what? Another chance to flee? He found no reason to even stand, let alone return to his duties. He stood there, as if the ice still covered him. Staring at the darkened sky for another indefinite period of time. Now and then he could feel the foundations of the very citadel tremble, as if something was shattering it from within, but no other sounds would accompany such quakes. He layed there, still and breathless.


When almost a month had passed since his fatidic entrappement, Rotarm was found by a regiment of Crusaders, who at first mistook him for Scourge but quickly recognised the tattered tabard of the Undercity the undead wore. Picking his inanimated corpse up, they dragged him all the way to the Ashen Veredict craftsman encampment, and, possibly believing he was truly gone, layed him down close to a pile of victims from the assault on the citadel. The pungent stench of decomposition was all it took to wake him up from his stupor, the scent to similar to the one of his capital. Standing up, he came close to the Crusaders, who stared at him, wordless.

What's this all about? Where is Queen Sylvanas? - he asked, confused, his jaw hurting and cracking from the time spent without motion, and mostly, intrigued with the relaxed posture of the Crusaders.

The Banshee Queen is possibly still at the Orgrim's Hammer, undead. She did not take place in the final battle. - they answered, visibly cheerfull.

Final... battle?

Yes, the time is one of rejoice! Our Highlord Fordring, may the Light bless him, and the many heroes of Azeroth have slain the treacherous human prince! The nightmare is over!!

The words fell on Rotarm as a ten ton hammer would. It was over. The Lich King defeated, their revenge finally consumed. He ignored the fact it wasn't even his Queen who had delivered the final blow, overwhelmed with the news delivered to him, on his weakened state.

It was over. No longer would he walk the path of servitude running blindly towards an objective. His debt to the Banshee Queen payed.
She could come and take the spark of life that animated him, if she wanted. He cared not. His duty was done, and he could finally walk the land on his own path, at last ending the restless trail of death and decay that had guided him so far.

The glacier plains in front of him now not so maddening.
The high ramparts of the citadel now not so treathening.
His Queen and peers now not so imposing in his mind.

Staring at the distance, towards the horizon, he quietly thought to himself:

The darkest of nights has passed, though the sky is still veiled. Where do i turn to now?

Grinning, he didn't even bothered answering. He would go where his feet commanded him. He would walk hiw own path. He would find his own place, no more external impositions.

Alone.
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Othragon Rotarm

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PostSubject: Re: Closure.   Wed Feb 10, 2010 5:51 pm

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xD
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Daidrax



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PostSubject: Re: Closure.   Wed Feb 10, 2010 6:55 pm

(( someone was bored Smile ))

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Payback time is nearing,
and then our flag will fly...
against a blood-red sky!
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Dracanos



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Location : Scotland

PostSubject: Re: Closure.   Thu Feb 11, 2010 2:00 am

(( not that Daid and Drac have that problem.. ON THE STONE COLD FLOOR OF SFK! ))
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Kaamar

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PostSubject: Re: Closure.   Sun Feb 14, 2010 3:41 pm

Days are passing, it is almost 3 weeks, yet there is no any news about Sir Rotarm. One Forsaken contignent marched to Northrend last month to participate in Horde army. Sir Rotarm was in that contignent to slay the Lich King, exact our revenge on Dark Lord, and assist to our Banshee Queen.

Many news arrived since then, battle is over, Horde could not kill the Lich King, eventually Alliance and Horde will fight together against the Lich King under command of High Lord Tirion Fordring, thus armies have not returned yet.

Kaamar probably receives the news from the front-lines on a daily basis. Lately he does not meet the couriers inside the city, he does meet them in front of the city gates as there is no endurance left to wait more to hear from Sir Rotarm. Another courier rides his steed from zepplin tower to city gates – Kaamar inhales swiftly, gives an expectant look at courier by a way of awating to hear from Othragon. Courier shakes his head and says in a low voice “ Nothing thus far Sir de Otar, we still try to get in Icecrown to identify our loses and collect the bodies, but most of them had been already cannibilazed by Scourge. Noone saw Sir Rotarm fell, but I can not assure you that he might be survived either.”

Clenching his fist, Kaamar gazes around absently. “ I see, you shall take your rest, I will listen your report later” says to courier without sparing even a glance at him.Courier bows and paces to the city. Kaamar rubs his brow in frustration and mumbles to himself “ I will find you Captain, I will find you my benign Master”
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