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// First Blood and Meeting the Moon 
// Story: Mark of the Wyld 
// by DarkParable 
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	I don't know how many of you've ever been knocked unconscious in any manner, but its not pleasant in the least. Everything just winks out. Thing is, that's nothing compared to waking up afterwards... Not that I'd know that of course, not like I've never been punched in the head by a jack ass who's life's ambition is to leave his fist imprint in... Yes yes I'll quit rambling...

Now then, to say that I came to would have been a lie, because opening your eyes and finding yourself quite literally among the stars isn't something likely to occur while awake. Cat's outa the bag there, because that's exactly what I opened my eyes to, a vast star-filled expanse that I seemed to be standing in quite normally enough. I could actually feel something solid beneath my paws, but damned if I could see anything but more stars. I'd try and say I didn't immediately think of a certain poor coyote, but once again I'd be lying out my arse. So yeah... My first reaction was to look up and wish I had a "Halp!" sign.

"Calm yourself my champion. There is no need for alarm, you are simply walking the astral. I thought it time we spoke normally..." rang out a gentle voice behind me. There was something calming about it, and not just because of how gentle the voice itself was. It was like the tranquility of a full moon's night washed over me with those words, that almost imperceptible feeling of the world at peace beneath the light of that heavenly body. A heavenly body that was the sphere of influence of the goddess standing behind me.

Elune smiled softly, an almost motherly expression on her face, as she watched me turn about to face her. I don't know how I knew who she was right off, but there was some little voice in the back of my mind that just seemed to tell me that the beautiful Night Elf before me was not just a goddess, but, in a manner of speaking, my grandmother.

I'm a lore junkie alright... So I know a few things about the actual pantheon of Azeroth. There's not a lot of information on them to be honest, but hey... I went and looked outa curiosity and the love of well written fantasy. Elune was, or is I guess considering she's apparently real, the father of Cenarius. Cenarius in turn was the father of the druidic order, as he taught the first Night Elf druid the arts of natural magic like that. Later on a splinter order of those druids took on lupine forms to help combat the Burning Legion. They went mad, got locked in the Emerald Dream, and were the first Worgen. Considering I was a Wrogen now... I guess I owed that one to her because without her I likely wouldn't be sporting the rather awesome claws.

"You're quite right there young Rune. No I shall not use your old name. That was taken, and I shall return it to you after this game is over... I'm sure you did not notice, but you gave those dogs your new name. You'll find that is the only name you'll know yourself by on Equis." said the goddess with a sad little smile. Well as long as she regretted taking my name I guess it was ok... Why was I not flipping out over that? I don't know, too calm here.

"Ok then..." I muttered by way of reply as I found myself dropping to all fours and curling up in a vaguely canine manner. It was nice there. It was even nicer when she bent down and scratched behind my ear with a soft, and clearly amused giggle.

"Pay attention Rune, for this is important. I have chosen you to be my pawn in a grand game of the gods. I cannot tell you the rules, nor the goal. I can tell you that you are to follow the quest I gave you at that convention. Go forth and bring glory to your name, and through your name my own... Now wake up little Death Knight... Wake up and show those who would dare try and dominate what is mine the folly of their ways..."

With that whatever solid surface on which I lay dropped out, taking me with it. Still, I didn't feel freaked out by this, the sensation of falling through the night sky was kinda pleasant... Landing back in my body and crashing back into consciousness... Not so much. yeah, instant head ache from the blackest pits of hell... Also that headache had been taking lessons from Chuck FUCKING Norris if the way it was round-housing my brain was any indication.

A quiet whimper escaped me as I slowly became aware of my surroundings. The first thing that greeted me was of course that headache with a mean leg. Following that of came the sensation of straw against my fur... And nothing else at all. Great. Not only was I now a chick, I was a naked (if covered in obsidian black fur) chick. Yay me. I opened my eyes slowly, and thankfully I could see despite what I'm sure was nigh pitch blackness around me.

I was indeed naked and dumped quite unceremoniously on a mound of old, and smelly, straw. Not quite sure how I could see as well as I could, must've been the glowy eyes. Perfect night vision and all at the low cost of one's soul being forced into their necromantaclly warped body. In other words, a perk of being a death knight. Though to be fair I'm sure that being a nocturnal predator had something to do with it, yay werewolf-esq things!

I found myself in a cell, and to be honest it could have been worse. I could woken up in someone's bed with... Yeah leaving it at that. I got to my paws and stretched slowly, various joints popping here and there as I moved. I sighed softly and let my eyes drift closed again as I focused on trying to think through the headache. All I could think of those was the blood pounding through my temples. Blood... Wait Blood! That was it. I reached for that word, focusing on it, and then I felt something give. The cold that had been clingng to me was gone, and in its place the air around me took on a faint coppery scent and seemed to thicken. I'd just tapped into the Presence of Blood. Extra stamina and increased heals is what that granted in WoW, and if the rest of my new powers were anything to go by it would work the same here. Long story short, the headache was gone soon. Second it was I switched back to Frost Presence and sighed with relief as the cold filled me once again. In a way it was comforting, not to have to feel anything but that arctic chill suffusing my entire being.

Now then, on to getting my ass the hell outa here without having something try and ride it. To that end I made myself a mental list of goals.

1. Get outa the cell so as to avoid any skill atrophy, I don't wanna serve my time.

2. Find my armor, AND MY AXE!!!!

3. Maybe free some slaves? Fuck it, free em and lets start a riot.

4. ???

5. Don't make a joke about profiting somewhere in this list.

6. Disregard the previous goal and then profit.

I'd say that was a good set of goals, and the first was easily accomplished. Anything frozen is kinda brittle, locks included. It only took a bit of focus and a good hard shoulder to the block of ice that used to be the cell door to break it open. Surprisingly, finding my shit turned out to be kinda easy too. Yes that's a good idea Diamond Dogs, keep the "bitch's" gear in the same room with her... Yeah, as a certain bearded individual with a love for dead pig would say. "Fucking SMART!".

The weight of my armor and the heft of my axe in my hands was another comfort. Mostly because I was in an unknown place and I now had a measure of protection, both from damage and a way to deal it out if need be. Yeah, feels good man, feels real good. What didn't feel too good though was the fact that, despite being well armed now, I was in a place I didn't know with hostiles potentially around every corner.

Damn the universe and it's sense of irony because no sooner had that thought crossed my mind than than a door I hadn't really payed much attention to before now opened and in came a pair of dogs I recognized well. Black Jaw and his son... Yeah... Fuck you Murphy!

They stopped short when they saw me and slowly smiled as they noted that I'd not only "escaped" but had armed myself once again. "So bitch has found her things has she?" asked the son of Jaw. "Well... This one will enjoy taking it back. Shiny axe will look nice on wall." With that the younger dog stepped forward and drew his sword. Yeah... Wasn't having his dad interfere this time. My lips pulled back in a snarl as I called on something a little special just for him. Chains of ice formed around Black Jaw, shackling him and fouling up his movements. I could feel the cold sink into him, turning his bones brittle and marking him with Frost Fever. His eyes widened slightly as he shivered uncontrollably.

I'm glad I turned my attention back to the younger one when I did, because it took almost all I had to block the sword speeding for my unprotected guts. Yeah that woulda ruined my day. That blow parried with the haft of my axe I gestured at him, and let the cold touch him with its icy talons. He visibly paled, soft patches of frost forming on his fur as the Frost Fever took him as well. Smiling fiercely I raised my axe and backed away a bit. This was going to be sweet. I could already feel the necromantic energies gathering on my axe for a plague strike without any conscious effort from me. Yeah, things were finally going slightly more success shaped for me.

Again, fuck Murphy and his damned law, and fuck my brain for deciding to invoke it at every opportunity. Another few dogs came in to... do something, probably watch whatever these two had planned, and then things got kinda hectic. I'm kinda fuzzy on exact details, but somehow the two alphas slipped away, leaving me to deal with the annoying Dogs who'd come along like adds in a raid.

Combat was... Different than I'd ever thought it would be. There was no clarity, no time to think, there was just pure action. It was react or die, and so I did what seemed natural... I reacted with all the ferocity of my new form. Worgen, to put it mildly, were feral beasts without some form of control behind them. That control took many forms, be they a wizard who twisted the simple minds of the feral Worgen to his ends, or a blessing from Elune that calmed the beast within and let the mind of the man or woman a Worgen once was to remain fully in control... Or that control could be the will of the Lich King and the gift of undeath... In my case I had to guess it was a combination between the last one and the second one there. That said, I was still an animal now, and so I fought like one.

There were four D-Dogs, all but one armed with those shitty swords, the last one carried an honest to gods mace. A freaking metal club with a spiky head. Whatever, they were all armed and they were out for blood in defense of their alpha. Two of the sword swinging dogs came running at me, and I in turn charged them with a roar that was so full of blood lust it nearly scared me. That sound did more than mildly unsettle the dogs however, they stopped short and started to turn to run as I came upon them with the furry of a woman given a large sharp object and told that her mortal enemy had gotten the last pair of for sale shoes... Gods damn it brain, stop doing that to me! Imma guy in here damn it!

In any case, axe, meet head. Head meet ground, and introduce body to it while you're at it please? One dog down in a spray of blood and a sickening thump as a severed head fell to the earth with a sense of utter finality. His companion felt my dark powers in a different manner however. I just let the power flow and a black chain of necromantic magic formed around his neck, nearly crushing his windpipe as he clawed at his neck desperately. The other two had watched all this with wide eyes, but they were not about to fail their leader, they apparently feared him more than me. Can't say I blame em, that guy was way to bent on bending me over.

That dog with the mace did something kinda smart, he gave his buddy a shove in my direction with enough force to send him stumbling right into the waiting embrace of my axe. I didn't hesitate, I just buried it in his chest and watched the life slowly drain from his eyes.

Killing one dog from behind was as different from watching someone die face to face as a fly was to a dog. What shocked me however was how little I cared. The feeling of disgust at my actions was there, as was the shock of killing two, maybe three if the slowly quieting struggles behind me were any indication, living things was there too... But it was as if it was buried under a layer of permafrost. Visible, but untouchable. As I was lost in the contemplation of this, and it was only a second's hesitation, that mace came crashing down on my shoulder. I yelped and did something kinda stupid... I let go of my axe and lept back.

Unarmed, and facing someone obviously smart enough to find a way to render my weapon useless long enough to take a swing, a swing that had made my arm go numb from the force. Yeah, not a good position to be in... if you couldn't make use of certain powers such I had. I noted something in the few heart beats, not that mine was mind you, before he closed on me again. That frost blue glow had brightened, highlighting the runes on my armor. I smiled softly as something came to mind. Runes, a death knight's abilities were based on them, and it seemed mine were active in full again. Unholy, frost, and blood, all six, two of each, glowed brightly. Well I made use of that. My frost runes were consumed as a howling blast of pure arctic cold blasted the diamond dog before me, nearly freezing it solid. Oh it didn't die though, and it still kept coming. Well... Fine, a skull shaped blast of necromantic energy short forth from my hand to collide with the slowed dog's chest, taking one of my unholy runes with it. Still not dead, but he was down.

I was content to leave him there. He'd die soon of frost fever anyways, I think. Not sure how quickly that disease would kill. To be safe though I retrieved my axe, triggered my last unholy rune, and gave him a small cut on the arm. Blood Plague from that cut ran though his veins now, and I could feel it somehow, feel the diseases that I had infected him with by virtue of the dark abilities I carried... And I didn't fucking care. He deserved it for what he'd done to his friend. "Morte en agone..." I whispered to him, only to watch him shudder and break out in a scream of pure agony... Well I had just told him to die in agony in Latin... Guess that blood plague was painful. I stormed out of that room, and winter's chill ran before me even as death followed behind... Somewhere in these tunnels was a pair of dogs that would soom know the meaning of the word fear... And how painful frost bite could be.