- -by Ogden
Wait, please! Lindi pleaded, You must hear me!
Wyst growled in the back of her throat. The only thing that stood between her and the light of her heart was Lindi; the only reason Lindi still stood there was because of Wysts love for her. Speak then.
They were in Lindis tent, a warm and healing place; a small fire flickered in the center; a leather d#@!& separated one section from the rest; the scent of healing magics and herbs hung thick in the air.
He is -- not the same as when you saw him last, Lindi said quickly, trying to keep Wysts attention, He is changed.
Wyst nodded and moved to step around her sister, Of course he is changed; how could he not be after what he went through?
You dont understand, Lindi protested, He is not --
But Wyst had already stepped around her and towards the back of the tent. When she drew the leather d#@!& aside, his name was on her lips but was caught and came out instead as a weak question, Ogden?
What lay before her, weakened but recovering, was a Troll.
We have him! exclaimed Gazmul.
The senior Warlocks, Priests, Magi, and apothecaries, until that moment standing in circle awaiting the arrival of the Blasphemer turned to greet the Arch-Priest. Where is
The question was cut short by a broken Undead landing hard on the cold, granite floor. The bounty hunter rolled his shoulders and sneered at the figure on the floor. My reward?
The Bounty Hunter had delivered the Blasphemer to a specially constructed chamber, created and reserved for that singular purpose. In the center of this space stood a circle of very seasoned apothecaries, Warlocks, Mages, and Priests. They stood in circle motionless; facing each other; silently waiting; bearing the patience of the dead. In that chamber were varying instruments of torture and magics; devices designed to keep the Blasphemer alive though in a pain Naturals could never know. Even the Dark Lady shuddered when she thought of what lay in store for the Blasphemer when caught. The room was walled on three sides, the fourth open to a rank, sludge-filled sewage canal.
Gazmul nodded and a coin pouch was tossed to the Tauren Hunter. Feeling the weight of the coin, he nodded and left the Forsaken to their bounty.
Not so mighty now, is he? Gazmul remarked as the others lifted him to the prepared X-frame. Securing his ankles and wrists, one of them clicked a few controls on a panel and the Undead was hung upside down. Cruelly, they spiked blunt probes directly into his bones and undead organs.
The senior Warlock, Athgz nodded, First we bind his powers; then we bring him to life.
On the X-frame, the Blasphemer was beaten and stunned but still somewhat aware enough of his surroundings. Shock blistered through is mind when he heard Athgz words; bring him to life?
Gazmul protested, To life you say? The permanent life? Why grant him that?
Athgz muttered absently, already preparing the geis that would isolate the Blasphemer from his powers, So we can be more persuasive.
Understanding immediately, Gazmul nodded. Living flesh was more susceptible to torment than dead.
Athgz muttered a spell and the chamber became enclosed by a protective barrier. Shrinking slowly in to the center of the room, it settled on the form of the Blasphemer. There, Athgz nodded to the apothecary, he can no longer tap into the fel; he is powerless.
You may proceed.
Apothecary Ranfurd nodded his response and turned to a table filled with bubbling vials and concoctions of all sorts. Mixing this with that and stirring these into those, he worked meticulously and efficiently. Forsaken were not known for their dalliances.
The potion prepared, Ranfurd began to chant, writing runes on the Blasphemers bones and scrying scripts to his decayed flesh. As his chant reached a climax, the potion was broken over the Blasphemer. A mist rose from the broken vials, thickening as the magic took root. Behind the veil of mist the Forsaken could hear the rising pain of the Blasphemer as his dead flesh was burnt away and living tissue grown in its place. The spell flashed in the mist like lightning in a thunderhead and the Blasphemers voice silenced. The evaporating mist signaled the end of the spell.
There must be some mistake! Gazmul exclaimed, shocked, All Forsaken are from human stock!
Ranfurd chided Gazmul, The Blasphemer is not Forsaken; never has been. The Blasphemer was is a Troll. This is how we could bring him to life; had he been a true Forsaken -- Ranfurd started when his instruments clacked at him - looking puzzled, then shocked he interrupted himself, His blood does not carry the Hakkar Curse!
Impossible, sputtered the until-then silent Magi, that would mean he lived thousands of years ago.
Ranfurd checked his instruments again, The impossible seems true; there is no doubt he is as he appears; ancient and beyond Hakkars influence.
The Blasphemer in living flesh did not look ancient; he appeared to be a young and well defined Troll, probably late teens or early twenties. His hair was stark white a proud mark of the long Arcane line stretching back generations before his birth.
Take from his mind everything he knows about the Dark Lady and our plans; we are unconcerned for the rest, instructed Athgz, we will kill him once we have what we seek; then dump him in the sewers.
The Mage Arcanos, and High Priest Gazmul moved to their places to invade the Blasphemers mind. While they tuned their spells, Ranfurd took several vials of the Blasphemers blood; Troll blood untainted by Hakkar would be very useful to the Apothecary.
Arcanos and Gazmul chanted in harmony and invaded the Blasphemers mind. Simultaneous to their invasion, Athgz flipped a couple switches and turned a dial on his control panel, sending magical current through the probes earlier spiked into his bones and organs, searing the Blasphemer from consciousness.
Hours turned to a day, then to two, and their task was complete. The Blasphemer had never known torture or torment like that no creature ever had - and as his brain began to shut down, he knew he would never know it again. We have stripped his mind of everything related to the Dark Ladys plans and the Burning Legion, Gazmul reported, but he appears to be dead.
Was there anything we could use; a lover or family we could seek out to destroy as well? Athgz inquired.
Arcanos shook his head. If there was, we did not discover it.
Pity, Athgz answered, The Dark Lady would have liked a moment or three with him herself. As it is, send word to her that our work is complete and the Blasphemer is finished.
They released his bonds and tossed him into a tributary of the Undercitys sewage canal.
From the shadows across the canal, Mulkanus, Kormok, and Lindi observed the machinations of the Forsaken. Kormok and Lindi were anxious to charge the chamber, cut the Blasphemer from his bonds, and slay the Forsaken. Mulkanus would gently shake his head, knowing the wiser and more prudent thing would be to let the Forsaken think him dead. Though it pained them to hear his cries of agony and watch his body recoil, they stayed their place. Lindi could not help her tears. They saw the Forsaken have their way with him for nearly two days, then finally dump him without further thought into the canals. It was then Mulkanus nodded, Let us find him.
The Blasphemer started awake, covered in slime and muck, reeking of foul things found in the sewage of an Undead city. Wyst! he called, weakly, Wyst; I love you. Reaching out across the world, he tried to find her mind, not realizing he was naked and without a hearthstone. He sobbed once before passing out again.
For how long he lay there, he did not know. Images faded in and out of the sewers; the stench; the pain. There were visions of a female Tauren, leaning over him, shouting his name, pleading him to stay with her, pleading him to stay with Wyst. Blackness and fog then darkness and murk; he finally regained consciousness.
Wyst! he exclaimed, sitting upright in a warm and comfortable pallet. It wasnt a moment before he saw Lindi coming to his side, worry heavy on her face.
Easy, she instructed, tenderly, Take it easy. Youve been out for quite a bit.
The Blasphemer smiled. Lindi! Its good to see you. Then realizing his situation, he asked, What am I doing in your tent? He was in her tent - he recognized it immediately; he and Wyst had been Lindis and Mulkanus guests many times. Why he was there then would take a moment to come.
Youve been through something terrible, she responded with an odd look in her eyes, I cant begin to tell you what all of it means since I only know what I saw and - she trailed off a bit, what I see.
What is the last thing you remember?
The Blasphemer thought for a moment and rubbed his lower jaw thoughtfully. I was in attendance to the Tears of Draenor meeting. We were chatting and enjoying each others fellowship when -- and the Blasphemers face went ashen, when the bounty hunter and his posse appeared!
You were taken by force, Lindi said, a tear rolling down her muzzle, There was nothing we could do; they outnumbered us and we were not equipped for battle. It took every bit of authority Grandsire and Kormok could muster to keep the Tears from attacking anyway. And they held only at your insistence; you pleaded with us to let you go - to save ourselves.
The Blasphemer nodded, rubbing his chin again, feeling a couple days worth of stubble and enjoying the scratching sound it made. The thought that struck him stabbed terror into his soul. Where is Wyst? She was not taken -
She is coming, Lindi answered, gently, soothing his sudden panic, she was not taken. But she will not be ready for what she sees.
The Blasphemer nodded again, I must look affright. He looked down at himself and froze; instead of broken and decaying flesh, his body was whole and virile; he touched his jaw; felt his tusks - he was alive!
The Blasphemer blinked at Lindi, I I am alive? Then crying out in a loud voice with arms raised over his head, the Blasphemer exclaimed, I AM ALIVE!
Lindi could not answer before Ogden passed out.