//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: You have the weirdest weakness // Story: (Cancelled) A Death Knight's Ramblings // by Nox Drachen //------------------------------// Someone challenged me to a duel once, claiming he was unbeatable. So I stabbed him with a fish. There are many things in this world and beyond that you should never do, and ticking off a paladin is one of them. Which is bad enough, as the self proclaimed “defenders of justice” are amongst the biggest fanatics in existence. Now take it one step further and you have the blood knights, the blood elves’ version of the divine soldiers. Lorn is a blood knight. It was a shame they stopped being sadistic bastards during the whole ordeal with the Sunwell being restored, or Vestie would not still be standing. Lorn was taking it slow, savoring the moment (honestly, I would too) and I... well. As I sneezed off the goldfish bowl I was wearing, I caught a look of Lorn. Surrounding him was a glowing yellow outline of a pony twice his size, enveloping his stature and making him seem more regal, his eyes glowing bright white. His sword was drawn, covered in the same glow with swirls of red dancing over it, his voice augmented by the sheer power he radiated. The power of showing off. Then he flung his shield, knocking out several dogs. Shields are overrated. Eww, that one’s gonna need a bath. I just sneezed on one of them, covering him from head to toe, claw, paw, whatchamacallit. I cast Lichborne, feeling the cold embrace of death once more as I turned fully undead. I was immediately hit with the sensation of pain. It turns out being undead near a paladin empowered by holy energy is still not a good idea, so I ran into one of the tunnels thinking Lorn could probably handle himself. Which was a shame, as I would miss the fight. Thinking about it, maybe Celestia is a paladin. That would explain why it hurt being Lichborne back at the castle. Paladin/rogue dual classes are overpowered. Odd that I didn’t feel anything like that the first time we met though, nor did Xia. Maybe she did it on purpose. Royalty. Well out of range I could feel something calling to me. I hesitated. This felt somewhat too familiar, like something I’d always known yet never known. Slowly walking forward, I sensed it was an ore deposit buried a few meters underground. Not stopping to think, I simply dug until hitting something hard, which I completely unearthed. It was a lump of dark red metal-laced stone, its shape resembling a crude heart twice the size of a normal heart. Something seemed off about it. So I just dumped it into my bag, of course. Not like dealing with weird metals ever hurt anyone, except the whole deal with the saronite metal, which later turned out to be the blood of a creature composed entirely of mouths and slowly drove those wearing it insane. Never affected me though. Okay, it never hurt anyone important. With the mysterious probably-not-dangerous metal safely secured, I found myself in a rather large hole too deep to simply jump out of. And my hooves started to itch, which meant that my undead state was fading. There’s a small problem with the Lichborne ability; it only lasts for a limited amount of time as it’s not a shapeshift, but a buff. A temporary (mostly) beneficial spell. And time was running short. My sneezing mortality would soon return. As I prepared myself for my future snot bath, I felt a heavy weight on my back, and something being pushed against my face blocking my view. I might have panicked, thinking one of the dogs were actually a rogue and attempted to throw it off. After much kicking and tumbling, I managed to throw whoever it was off. A cheerful voice could be heard, giving up a loud “Weeeee!” as its owner landed on something that gave a small yelp. I felt the bag on my head move, two blue eyes coming into view. It turned out I was wearing some sort of mask, which let me breathe without trouble. And I had somehow gotten out of the hole. Pinkie smiled and bounced over to Rover, which was what Vestie called himself. Know how she found us? Pinkie sense. Or more specifically, ear flop - twitchy tail - knee pinch - itchy nose. She even did the gestures as she named them, claiming it was a combo that told her someone was going to need a gas mask. Yeah, “what” was all I could think off too. Pinkie now occupies fourth place on my list of awesome, right above catapults. She’s just so... random. Something tells me that was a horribly cliche line of text. And if you must know, number three on my list is reserved. Not sure what to put there yet. Number two is truth. I’ve never quite understood the purpose of lying, the truth is so much more destructive not to mention funnier than a lie. Not to forget lying takes so much effort to keep up. And number one is V- actually that’s none of your business. Lorn was also here, free of any bonds, ropes and what have you. Guess they got the point. He was oddly clean though, last time he lost it he came out looking like me. Let’s just say blood knights don’t let “morals” stand in the way of “justice”. Whatever keeps their boat afloat. Rover, sporting a new black spot over his right eye, mumbled something along the lines of “stupid pony” as he begrudgingly led the way. Lorn wasn’t happy with how I, as he put it, “abandoned him to these animals”. Nevermind I would’ve caught fire if I didn’t! Being on fire and standing in fire is not the same thing, because it’s only the latter one that increases your damage output. The first one kills you. I managed to make him wait until we were outside before answering anything, as I’m currently itching more than anypony should ever have to itch. Ever. I could use a good stab massage right about now. Rover did not find my stories amusing. Bad dog. I was of course speaking of the time I visited Majordomo Executus whom I stabbed. With a rock. He was a flamewalker, a creature with a humanoid torso resting on a serpentine body, covered entirely in scales. I’m still not sure whether he was important or not, I forgot whatever else happened during that trip to the Molten Core, a cave system beneath a volcano known as the Blackrock Mountain. Supposedly there’s some history behind it. As we walked through the tunnels, Pinkie cheerfully bounced as she hummed a rather catchy melody. I had a very interesting conversation with Rover as we walked. “Hey Rover!” “What?” “Are we there yet?” “No.” “What about now? “No.” “And now?” “NO!” “Hey Rover!” “WHAT?!” “What’s your favourite colour?” “NO- uh, red.” “It is? Mine too! … are we there-” “YES!” “Really?” “NO!” I’m so good at making new friends. It had gotten dark outside during our little cave trip, and the sky was covered by a beautiful star pattern. If I didn’t look like a walking disaster I would probably have spent some time simply watching it, but I was also... tired. With the dogs out of sight, I took my mask off and started walking back towards town with the other two, finally back to walking on grass. A song rewrite was starting to form in my mind based on Pinkie’s earlier melody, a habit I had developed when I was still a child. Needless to say neither the matrons in the orphanage nor my adoptive family approved of the lyrics. All you have to do is take a bunch of morons Add them to the raid Everyone is after blood’n’glory The last they’ll get is laid Leading this group is such a pain And it’s full of pointless drama Add a little luck to this clusterfuck And the treashaa we will loot’ah! Raiding, this team is tragic Raiding, their deaths nostalgic Raiding, slaughter plunder RAIDING! Raiding, of course, is one of if not the most popular past time in Azeroth. Some important guy or gal is declared evil and thus we form “teams” or “raid groups” to go in, kill everything inside and steal their stuff. It’s like breaking and entering only you’re considered a hero because of it. Some of them even truly believe what they’re doing is right. The whole concept reeks of justification, as if you need a reason for it. And no, I didn’t sing this out loud. I wanted to, but I don’t think Pinkie would’ve enjoyed it as much as me. … what the hay is wrong with me?! Now, Lorn wanted to know what I did while we were separated. So I told him about the heart shaped metal I had found, and the familiarity I felt. He didn’t approve of me unearthing it, even less bringing it with me. When I took it out of my bag, he backed away from it. Pinkie looked at it with curiosity, and somehow we ended up talking cherry flavoured gems made of highly concentrated carbon kept under pressure for over a thousand years like diamonds. They better not have fruit swords here. Some weapons are too evil for their own good. I swear I just saw a shadow move. Again. Word of advice, never fight a shadow. Bastards are invincible. And invisible if there’s not enough light. Not like that flying horse. It’s complicated. Turns out Lorn didn’t like the heart metal rock thing because it looked wrong. How awfully shallow of him, as if it’s responsible for how it looks. He doesn’t even sense any evil from it, and the fact that he can’t actually sense evil at all due to having exhausted his holy magic reserves doesn’t make it any more evil! Rocks are people too! Kids these days are only interested in helping old ladies across streets, so of course it falls to me to help these poor unfortunate rocks achieve their lifelong dreams of displaying their superiority over anything I beat them with. I’m such a nice person. The earth elementals are just jealous because they are too lazy to do it themselves. So Lorn cannot feel the Sunwell, which might have something to do with the fact that it’s not actually here, and he exhausted his power supply with that small light show of his. That’s what you get for being dependant on a pool of magic to convert natural magic into holy magic for you. Otherwise he could’ve just used the magic Xia claims this world is covered in, but nooooo. Paladins have to be picky about their magic. That is why my method of beating things up with themselves is much better than theirs... maybe I’ll give that non-lethal thing a try. AH HAH HAH HAH HAH no. Not unless something catastrophic happens that make me change my view on this, which will never happen. BUBBLES. SO MANY BUBBLES. BUBBLES EVERYWHERE. I’m in a bathtub. Filled with water. And bubbles. And water warfare combat simulation equipment. It’s roleplaying time. Without any Goldshire influence whatsoever. That place is weird. Trust me, you don’t want to know. And I’m mentioning it so that you will wonder what it is and forever curse the day your curiosity got the better of you and you found out. Onward! The sky itself was shattered by the sound of the mighty roar of the mighty McQuackosaur, the yellow rubber scourge of the seas. Nothing could stand against this evil spawn of evilness, as the giant evil rubber duck evilly and mercilessly annihilated every ship it came across. Evilly. Oblivious to the fact that today would be its last, for the princess’ finest ship, the Lunar Pearl, had set sail to slay the mighty McQuackosaur and bring peace to the Equestrian waters. The ship approached the humongous beast, its skin a sickening yellow and its soulless eyes black as the darkness itself. The captain, a white stallion in a fabulous and overly large hat ordered his crew to fire upon the monster. But it had disappeared. One of the crew reported the presence of another ship, one belonging to the Kirin Tor Brigade. The captain came to the clear conclusion that they must have been behind this monstrosity, and ordered his crew to unleash the ravenous hats. Sadly it was Veteran Hat day, and everypony knows hats do not fight during their holidays. Just then, their boat started shaking. The captain shouted orders as he tied himself to the steering wheel with some conveniently placed rope as a humongous beast emerged from the depths below, giving a fear inducing roar. It was Rornzilla, the Death of the Seas. The terrifying and dashing monster had the no-longer-that-mighty McQuackosaur in its mouth, chewing as it broke the demon ducks neck- ... You know, there are probably weirder situations to walk in on than seeing me chewing furiously on a rubber duck. Like that one time Xia walked in on me waging war on the library books. I swear, every book is out to get me- I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. You’re NOT getting out of my bag and that’s final, Night knows what’ll happen if you do. Stupid bookforts and their hive mind, it’s worse than those infernal bees! Now that I think about it, I haven’t actually seen bees in over a... the squirrels kidnapped all the azerothian bees. It all makes sense now, they seek to rule the world by controlling all its resources! First the honey, then our lives, then... wait, what? So Lorn walked in on me chewing on a rubber duck. You should know there was a perfectly good explanation for this. Me chewing on the duck, not Lorn invading my bath tub fun time- combat training. Yes. Combat training. They should be glad they didn’t catch me singing, which when I brought it up Lorn gave me the most “NO” look in all of creation. That is a fact. Or a theory. Which is considered fact whenever it benefits whoever looks at it. Like my allergy management. Yeah, I was taking a bath. I used to hate bath time, the matrons kept trying to make me take my necklace off each time. I love this necklace. It looks like some sort of starfish with a red gem in the middle and it’s the only thing I have left from the time before the orphanage took me and Lorn in. I hated that place, filled with entitled brats and angsty role players. At least something good came out of Arthas’ destruction of the Sunwell, seeing as it stood right in his path. Apparently Rarity, who were visiting Twilight when we returned just a few moments ago, does not approve of dirt. Or messy manes. But even considering the state I was in when we arrived, being covered in, well, stuff, she still had no reason to overreact the way she did. Don’t believe me? “Your mane!” “My mane?” “Your hair!” “My hair!” “I cannot let such a crime against fabulousity go unpunished, you’re getting that washed right now young man!” “I’m older than you! Can’t we talk this over?” “NO!” “Don’t touch THE HAIR!” “Be quiet!” “I need an adult!” “I AM AN ADULT!” See, she overreacted. And no, I had no traces of my previous allergic adventures as I went Lichborne which caused any non existing proof to rot away. I know allergy doesn’t work that way, but mine does. I’M A SPECIAL SNOWFLAKE. You can’t prove anything otherwise, therefore I am considered right in your world. Wait, is the inside of a bag comfortable? Maybe I should see if I can put a sofa in it, weird how these soulbound bags work. They can contain a stupidly large volume of the same type of item, but only a limited amount of different items. Which means eight pieces of armour takes the same space as a hundred and sixty feasts each large enough to feed twenty five soldiers. Magic bags, why do you hate physics. So first Rarity throws a fit due to the state my mane is in, and then she has the audacity to attempt to style my hair. With scissors. Important note: Do not touch blood elven hair. EVER. Unless its owner trusts you to handle it right it better be an extreme emergency of fashionable proportions, or the only other alternative being the end of the world. Only barely if it’s the latter one. … maybe I’m overreacting too. Perhaps I should apologize and allow her- WHAT THE HAY BRAIN? This is getting out of hoof, I can’t do nice things. Last time I did I... Nevermind. This shampoo smells of strawberries. Or liquid pain. I have no idea how to use this. I figured out how to open the shampoo bottle, it was actually quite simple. Not that you need to know, books don’t shower. No, I’m not going to find out if you do. Some things are better left unexplained. Do books sing in the shower? And if so, what do they sing about? Now I’m faced with a different dilemma. How are earth ponies able to use towels and combs with their hooves? Dear Luna I haven’t felt so refreshed and tired at the same time in like forever. My mane is fantabulous. Of course I did it myself, you think I’d let Lorn or Rarity do it? Lorn showed me how hooves work. The pony bodies of this world have more joints than the azerothian ones, so they are able to somehow hold things in ways they shouldn’t. Clearly ponies are part magnets. So. Lorn and Rarity is gone, and I’m not allowed to go outside the library until tomorrow in case I disappear again. As if it’s something I do often. I wasn’t even planning on doing anything, honest! Besides, what would I even do? I’m missing my partner in antics, and she... she must be terribly bored. We’re going back into the woods tomorrow to look for some sort of portal “residue”, as Xia called it. Supposedly it could help Xia find a way to open a new portal. Or rather, Xia’s going into the woods with Lorn. She’ll be keeping herself at light as a feather while Lorn carries her, which makes more sense than walking all the way. We could’ve done this when we first arrived, but I refused. Lorn is not very trustworthy, not to mention his first flight ended in a tree. Mages have a spell called Slow Fall, which essentially makes whoever it’s cast on light as a feather. Not to be confused with the priest spell Levitate. Atra, our shadow priest, will melt your face off if you do. She’s not here now so you don’t need to worry about what else she can do. For now. And me? I have to stay behind. In a library. Filled with books. Some which I have to read. Which is still better than being carried by Lorn. I just yawned. Clearly that just confirms how boring tonight is going to be. Might aswell just get this over with. To think I used to love reading, losing myself within the adventurous worlds they created. Nowadays I do more impressive things on a daily basis, or did anyway. There are only so many times you can kill the same “big bad guy” over and over until it becomes more of a chore than entertainment. There it is again, what’s wrong with me? Normally I keep imagining new ways to “improve” ways of thwarting plans of world destruction, but lately the thought just makes me... bored. It must be this pacification spell, it’s not like I’d grow tired of doing the same thing every day over and over again- slaughter has become a chore in Azeroth. The Quirrel Empire will regret this! Good thing I’ve got my backup plans, I think I’ll stab their emperor with a boat. Another yawn. The book before me is of medium size and looks oddly comfortable. I’ll just lay my head down for a little while.