N’Zoth’s Chosen

by Dracthul

Chapter 1: Awakenings

Author's Note:

First real chapter done! I’m going to write a chapter for a different fic now, and then come back to this in a chapter-to-chapter pattern.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Darkness. That was all that existed—an infinite void devoid of life that existed without form. No substance, no living thing, no purpose—just darkness—and then something flickered into existence. Floating in the sea of inane was a man. His soul was still with him, the only thing keeping him from passing onto the next life. As the darkness began to seep into him, consuming everything it touched, a purple energy sparked around him. The darkness was burned away as a furious glow radiated from the man. Everything faded away as his body was drawn to somewhere different—a place of Harmony…

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Awake.

An incredible light burned through Tinnidas’s conscience, forcing him to return to his mind. His eyes shot open; the same light seared into his vision. Everything was but a blur as the light persisted, Tinnidas feeling himself become tethered to his mortal body once more. The world crept into his vision, banishing the light as the landscape around him overtook it. Gray shapes formed, still too blurry to make out. The feeling of warmth on his skin as his senses returned was all too real to simply be a dream.

He was alive.

As soon as that thought finished, he was hit with the pain. He roared out in agony, an onslaught of physical torment washing over his entire body as he felt every nerve come alive. His senses were sobered from the burning pain, forcing him into reality. His ears began to ring, the sound permeating his mind. The gray shapes around him morphed into rocks as he found himself in some sort of cave. Bearing through his current state, he slowly rolled over, putting his hands onto the cold stone below him.

With whatever will he could muster, he pushed himself up, fighting through the pain as he went onto his knee. The sound of metal grinding against stone got his attention, making him look down. To his surprise, he saw metal plating covering his knee. It was almost gold in color, with small engravings etched all over the plates in a methodical pattern. He put his hands on his legs and pushed himself to his feet, forcing deep breaths through his body as his pain seemed to ease.

He finally looked around, taking in the cave he found himself in. The walls were like any other cave—bare—but as he turned, he saw a glow. His eyes rested upon the tree made of crystal in front of him. He noticed the five gems held in the branches of the tree, as well as the largest one held at the center. Something about the tree made him feel invigorated, and he could feel his pain dull. His eyes lingered on it for a moment before he continued to look around. The rest of the cave was empty, except for the bag lying on the ground.

He kneeled down and picked it up, noticing the scorch marks on the outside. He pulled off the leather flap that kept the bag closed. He looked inside, seeing small vials full of strangely colored liquids. He also saw an egg-shaped object that caught his eye. It had a glossy surface that looked akin to glass, but a white substance seemed to flow beneath the surface. Reaching a hand into the bag, Tinnidas pulled the object out. There was a blue rune on its face that seemed to shift as the white substance did.

Something about the object felt familiar, as if he knew what it was. He set the bag down, tapping the outside of the object with his finger. The glossy exterior felt like an incredibly smooth stone, one that was somehow transparent. As he continued to stare at the blue rune on it, the Hearthstone felt more and more familiar.

Hearthstone? he thought. How do I know tha—

Tinnidas’s vision disappeared in a flash, everything around him fading as his vision became glazed, his surroundings warping. He was suddenly looking at a man who was in what appeared to be a tavern. The frame of the building was entirely wooden. It was a darker brown color that made Tinnidas feel welcome. There were couches and tables scattered around the room, and there was a long counter near the back of the room. A line of bar stools was against the counter, a few humans and dwarves sitting there.

The man his eyes were drawn to was talking to a dwarf who was the innkeeper. Somehow Tinnidas knew that the dwarf was the innkeeper; it just seemed right. The dwarf spoke in a scruffy voice that was layered with a strong accent.

“Anytime ya wanna return here, just rub that Hearthstone of yers, and you’ll appear here.”

The man unlatched the satchel on his side and put his Hearthstone into it. Tinnidas instantly recognized it as being identical to the one he was holding before he was transported to wherever he was now. He took a step forward, hoping to talk to the man—but he did not move. He looked down in shock, finding his legs missing—as well as the rest of his body. The panic racing through him intensified as he was drawn to the man again.

He slowly turned around, revealing himself to Tinnidas. He had the same armor that Tinnidas was wearing, and when he looked at the man’s face, it was the same as his. Tinnidas was captured by his own gaze, staring into his own brown eyes. He saw his short beard and mustache, short and curly hair, and olive-colored skin. He realized that what he was watching was a memory, a memory of his own past.

Everything blurred again as his surroundings changed, bringing him back to reality. Still shaken from the memory, his grip loosened, causing the Hearthstone in his hands to slip out of his fingers. He tried to grab it as it fell, but it hit the stone floor, cracking on its edge. He picked it back up, watching as the blue rune flickered. Luckily it was still in one piece, but he doubted it was functional.

“Maybe I can get this fixed later,” he said to himself, his voice firm. It was worn from the years of shouting he had done in battle, giving it a slight croak. Nevertheless, his voice sounded like that of a strong warrior who was tried and true. Tinnidas looked outside the cave, noticing the sun was further down the sky than it should have been.

“Odd,” he muttered, stepping over to look outside. “The sun should not be that far yet…”

As he continued to look at the sky, he saw the sun was moving quickly—too quickly for Azeroth. He looked back to the ground, seeing a path leading out of the ravine he was in. He started walking outside, his armor clinking as he did. The sun did not feel as hot as it usually did, despite him being in armor. He added that to the list of strange things he had encountered.

He trudged up a steep slope, reaching the top of the ravine. He took a look at his surroundings, finding himself in a dense forest. He did not see a single person, nor any buildings. He did not see any sign of civilization at all, only trees.

“Where even am I?” he asked no one. He went over to one of the trees, examining its bark. He furrowed his eyebrows as he found the texture of the wood unfamiliar. He knew that he was an expert in wildlife—he did not know how, though—but he did not recognize the trees. They seemed too bushy, too dark, to be in such a warm climate.

“This can’t be Elwynn Forest,” he said, pausing as he lingered on his own words. That name seemed to come to him like muscle memory, but he lacked the memory of what it actually was. He knew it was on his planet of Azeroth, but he had little knowledge of his homeworld.

Might as well start moving. The sun’s going down, he told himself. He took a few steps past the tree, scanning the area. Everything appeared normal at first glance. There were small bushes and lush grass, even some flowers here and there. He went forward, going deeper into the forest. Hopefully, I can find someone before it gets dark. The thought of spending the night in some unknown forest was not something he looked forward to.

He continued on, making his way through the woodlands. To his surprise, he saw hardly any animals. He saw one single rabbit, but that was it. As his journey continued, it slowly got darker and darker until there were only a couple of hours of sun left. His legs had begun to tire, so he stopped for a moment at a small pond, sitting down and resting his body. He grabbed his satchel, opened it up, and laid the contents on the ground. His damaged Hearthstone was still in decent condition. The crack had not grown since he last saw it. If he were lucky, he would be able to repair it sometime in the future. He carefully put it back in the bag.

Next to the Hearthstone was a series of vials. Five of them had a bright red color, and two had a darker red color like that of blood. He picked up one of the lighter ones, inspecting the glass. Etched into the outside, he read “Potion of Rejuvenation.” He put that one back on the ground, lifting one of the darker ones. Taking a closer look, he saw a label on that one as well.

“Potion of the Juggernaut,” he whispered. As he continued to look at the smooth liquid inside, he felt his vision change again. The pond vanished, replaced by a small stone chamber filled with herbs and other ingredients. There was a strange table in the center of the room that had tubes and containers, burners and vials, and other peculiar things on it. Once again, there was a man standing at the table. This time, he had a vial in his hand that had a wine-colored liquid inside it. He put it into a small slot that held it in the air. He put a tube into the vial and turned a valve on top of a beaker, another liquid pouring into the vial. After waiting for every last drop, he closed the valve, moved the tube, and turned on the burner, the flammable powder in it igniting.

The liquid began to bubble, mixing together. He turned off the flame, grabbed a small stick, and stirred the mixture. After letting it cool for a moment, he poured it into a different vial that looked the same as the one Tinnidas was looking at near the pond.

The man continued to work on his potions, and as he did, Tinnidas knew that the man was an alchemist—and that was him. His herbalist skills flowed through his mind as he remembered making potions and elixirs many times before. He continued watching himself work, when he heard a snapping sound.

He looked around the room, finding nothing to make the noise. He then heard a low growl that pulled his mind from the memory. Everything dissolved, the forest returning in an instant. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw something flying through the air towards him. He quickly got to his feet, but not before the creature slammed into him, forcing him to the ground.

His back hit the dirt hard, knocking the wind out of him. As the creature bore its full weight onto him, its claws tore through the chainmail on his torso and into his chest. He screamed as he felt a number of dagger-like talons cutting deep into him. He looked at his chest, seeing pieces of wood coming out of him. Looking higher, he saw the creature on top of him. It was made of what appeared to be wood, but it was alive. It had the shape of a wolf and features very similar to it. It was unlike anything Tinnidas had ever seen.

The timberwolf lunged at his head with its jaws, but Tinnidas moved out of the way. He delivered a punch to its jaw, knocking off a part of the wood. He was glad he had gauntlets on, or else his knuckles would be bleeding.

The wolf slowly turned its head, snarling. It lifted its front claws, pulling them out of his chest. Ignoring the sharp pain he felt, he curled his legs as the creature reared back. With the force of a cannon, he kicked. As his kick impacted, the timberwolf was sent hurtling backward, tumbling on the ground. Wasting no time, Tinnidas rolled over and got to his feet.

He still needed his satchel, so he grabbed it, throwing the two intact vials into it and latching it. He threw it over his head and shoulders, already starting to run. He pushed himself as fast as he could, sprinting through the forest. He jumped over logs and weaved through trees as he tried to get away. The timberwolf was not far behind, barking as it chased after him.

Tinnidas started to panic as he looked over his shoulder, seeing the wolf gaining on him. He picked up the pace, barely avoiding tree after tree. As he jumped over a log and went between two trees, he found himself trapped. Trees were all around him, and they were too thick for him to squeeze through. He skidded to a stop, turning around to see the timberwolf only a short distance away. He glanced around, looking for something—anything—that could help him. To his dismay, he found nothing.

The wolf bared its teeth as it prepared to pounce upon its prey. Tinnidas watched as it got closer and closer until it was only a few yards away. His eyes flashed with light as he saw a faint vision of himself reaching behind his back. He found his right arm doing the same thing as it imitated the motion, going behind his head and grabbing onto the hilt of a sword. Another flash hit his eyes as he saw himself pull the blade out.

He unsheathed it with a schling sound, grabbing onto it with both of his hands. For a brief moment, he studied the sword. It was long enough to use two hands and short enough to still be used with one hand. It was double-edged, and he could see engravings along its blade that were similar to his armor. He instantly knew it was his sword.

The timberwolf jumped towards him, but Tinnidas swung his sword with a speed he did not know he had. The blade went straight through one of its legs, cleanly cutting through the wood. The timberwolf let out a howl as it fell onto the ground, quickly rolling and getting its footing.

Tinnidas narrowed his eyes as he took a step back. A familiar confidence coursed through him as he readied himself, grinding his feet into the ground. He angled his back and leaned in as he prepared to strike. The beast charged at him, wobbling along the way. Tinnidas took his swing, the wolf barely dodging the attack. It jumped onto him, but his blade quickly swept up, cutting the timberwolf in two. Its front section fell beneath his feet, its green eyes flickering out.

Tinnidas let out a relieved breath, putting his sword back into its sheath. He kneeled down to the strange creature that had attacked him, opening its jaws. There was not a speck of flesh to be seen on its body, meaning the creature had to be held together by a magic of some kind. And if there was magic, then maybe there was civilization after all.

He stood back up, looking up at the sky to get his bearings. Before setting off, he hooked a finger under his chainmail, lifting it and taking a look at his chest. He cringed as he saw blood slowly seeping out of his wounds, but at least he would be okay for now. He then remembered the potions he had, pulling the lighter one out of his bag.

“Let’s hope this works.” He took off the small cork, leaning his head back as he downed the liquid in one swig. His face contorted from the foul taste in his mouth, but he almost instantly felt the potion’s effects. The pain coming from his chest seemed to ease, and he felt more energized than ever. When he lifted his chainmail again, he found his skin patching itself up, decreasing the size of the cuts. While it would not fully heal him, it would keep him going for the time being.

He closed up the vial, putting it back in his satchel. He started through the forest again, unaware of the timberwolf he cut in half beginning to rejoin.

As he made his way, the forest started to thin. The trees were more spread out, and the sun shone through the tops of the trees brighter than before. Tinnidas hoped that meant he was close to the forest’s edge and, therefore, close to people.

He tensed as he heard faint steps behind him. He looked around, finding no clear escape. He reached for his blade, spinning around and drawing it. His eyes darted around him, finding nothing. He heard the bushes rustle all around him. He slowly turned in a circle, ready to defend himself.

A timberwolf leaped out from one of the bushes, but Tinnidas heard the rustle of the leaves, pivoting on his foot and slicing the wolf from its snout to its tail. Surprised by his speed, five timberwolves lumbered out of the bushes. He was surrounded. Instead of waiting for them to strike him down, he decided to make the first move.

Tinnidas ran forward, dragging his sword low to the ground. He cleaved upwards, cutting one of the timberwolves along the snout. It recoiled before lunging back at him with outstretched claws. Tinnidas raised his weapon, blocking one of its paws. The other slid across his chest, cutting into the same area he was already injured.

The beast paid for its actions—dearly—as Tinnidas separated its leg from its body. He raised his sword, about to finish off his attacker, when another timberwolf’s claws sawed into his back. He awkwardly bent forward, going down to one knee. He raised his sword as another strike came down, blocking the blow. The wolf pushed against the sword, snapping its jaws at him.

His eyes flashed with yellow light as a memory flooded through him. He found his body mirroring the actions he saw in his mind: a man dropping his guard and quickly stabbing his sword through his enemy’s chest. Tinnidas looked in front of him, seeing the contorted face of the timberwolf impaled upon his blade.

He gritted his teeth, twisting his sword before pulling it out. The wolf fell to the ground, its eyes snuffed out. He snapped his sword behind his back, cutting off the head of the wolf behind him.

The three other timberwolves felt uneasy, still stamping their paws on the ground to show strength as Tinnidas stood up, almost unhindered by his injuries. His eyes glowed yellow as he gripped his sword tight.

Inside his mind, he had already seen the fight unfold. Whoever he was on Azeroth was a warrior—a great one at that. He had the same fight before, only with something he knew to be orcs instead of timberwolves, and all he had to do was let it unfold.

As the glow in his eyes dissipated, a smirk slid onto his face. The first of his enemies rushed towards him. As it tried to jump him, he stepped to the side with ease, watching as it slid on the ground. He swept low with his sword, removing the wolf’s back legs. It collapsed onto the ground, scrambling to get back up. Tinnidas thrust his sword down, straight through the chest of the wolf.

He quickly pulled out his weapon, parrying an incoming attack. With a spin, he stopped another attack by removing the attacker’s claws. He rolled on the ground, getting onto one knee behind an enemy. His sword whipped through the air, claiming another wolf. The last of them managed to land atop him, throwing him to the ground. He grabbed onto its front legs, holding it away from him as best he could. The wolf snapped at his head, but Tinnidas moved out of the way.

The beast’s teeth impacted his armored shoulder instead, causing the engravings on his armor to glow with a blue light. A blast of electricity shot through his armor and into the wolf, stunning it for a moment. Tinnidas did not let the opportunity go to waste, grabbing the timberwolf by its jaws and throwing it to the ground. He rolled over, scraping along his already injured chest in the process, getting up as fast as he could and rushing to his sword. He grabbed it from the ground, the wolf already coming towards him.

Almost like instinct, he thrust his sword out, pointing it directly at his enemy. He let out a war cry, his weapon reacting to his emotions. All along the blade, the runes carved into it burned with an orange blaze. A wave of fire washed over his sword, running from the handle to the point before shooting out from the end in a stream. The jet of flames hit the timberwolf, eating away at its wooden body.

Tinnidas watched it fall apart as it tried to get to him, dropping as a pile of burnt lumber before his feet. The fire stopped, the runes on the blade returning to their normal color. He looked around, seeing the bodies of the timberwolves scattered around him. He glanced down at his sword, the fight he was just in seeming like a blur. While he remembered it clearly, it seemed almost unreal how he had single-handedly taken down the pack of timberwolves. He took another look at his sword and the runes running along it.

“I guess I have this to thank,” he said aloud, putting his weapon back in its sheath. While he had taken them down, he was wounded. His chest and back were bleeding, and he knew he was out of healing potions. The effects of the potion he drank earlier had worn off, leaving him weak and vulnerable.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins started to fade as well, bringing the pain of his injuries. His chest stung like a hot knife laid on his skin, but he had to keep moving. He found his bearings again, continuing through the forest. His condition only seemed to worsen.

At first, he took slow steps. Then, he held an arm over his chest. Next, his every step became incredibly taxing. After that, he started to trudge around, barely able to stand. He kept looking ahead, the forest never seeming to end. His vision started to go black around the edges as he felt his conscience slipping away. His will was fading, and his steps became more and more sluggish. The world around him was spinning, but through the insanity, he saw what he was looking for.

He saw the edge of the forest, and he saw a village in the distance. He pushed his legs to walk, moving his feet forward with each step. His eyes were set on his salvation, and he was only a few feet from the last tree of the forest. Just when freedom seemed so close, he tripped on a rock, stumbling forward as he tried to find his balance.

In the end, he failed, falling to the ground and hitting his head on another rock. He let out a scream as he thudded onto the grass, everything going still. His eyes strained to stay open, but he could feel his senses slipping away. Just before they did, he heard the sound of wings flapping in the air.

He tried to turn his head, barely moving from the effort. As his head rested to the side, he saw something approaching him. He scrunched his eyes, trying to make sense of the blurred figure. It was a bright purple and walked on four legs. Something protruded from its head, but he could not tell what. He saw its outstretched feathered wings fold to its side. He wondered if it had come to pick away at him once he blacked out or if it was going to use him as food for its family. As his vision turned black, he did not seem to care. There was nothing he could do to save himself.

Once again, darkness was around him as everything faded away.