Vashj, part 4

“There, there now, said McCreedy in a motherly, yet still, somehow slightly eerie voice, there’s no need for that now. No need to fall apart, she continued with a slight chuckle, I am sure that you have had quite enough of that already.”

Ellen McCreedy lead Vashj to a bench on one side of the garden. They sat in silence for some time as Vashj calmed down. Vashj sniffed back her tears a few times and stared blankly at her surroundings.

“Am I dead?” Vashj in a choked voice.

“Well yes and no dear, came the reply, if you were altogether dead your body would be a spiritless corpse rotting in the ground.”

“Then what am I?”

Ellen put her hand on what was left of Vashj’s leg. There was a slightly audible click as part of McCreedy’s rather boney fingers touched some of the bare bone at her new student’s knee.

“Dearie its like this – it is almost as if your body died but your brain forgot to tell your spirit. As a result your spirit stayed around.”

With a note of disgust, Vashj continued with a question that she thought was a natural continuation of Ellen’s train of thought.

“So am I just a walking corpse?”

“Goodness no dear. You mean like those shambling horrors that serve the lich king? I should say not.”

Unable to manage an audible reply, Vashj simply shook her head yes.

“Not at all – not at all. Those have no spirit or intelligence at all. They are nothing more than piles of anthropomorphic filth with no spirit and very little instinct. Think of them as nothing more than a fetid clockwork toy, made in the twisting nether.”

“I don’t understand”

“Well love, its like you’ve caught a bad cold. McCreedy paused and continued with a chuckle, true, a really bad cold, but a cold nonetheless. Only in this case the disease not only stopped your spirit from leaving your body, but it gave your body a good SWIFT KICK in the pants to wake it up mid-decay. These last words she emphasized with a slight kicking motion into the air.”

“So should I avoid garlic and sunlight and things like that?” Vashj asked sheepishly.

“Heavens not dear. Not unless you’re a vampire or had a natural aversion to that sort of thing to begin with. If you’re a vampire than you are in altogether the wrong place to begin with than aren’t you?”

Vashj thought for some time in silence. Than she continued a bit more calmly.

“So this means I can’t die?”

“No, no dear. Never make that mistake. A steady hand and a sharp sword can still make short work of you. No if that were the case than you would be invulnerable and could just about take over the world. Imagine that, Ellen chuckled, ‘first empress Vashj’. No dear you are not the first to make that mistake and surely not the last.”

“So I can end this all just by dieing?”

“Surely you can,” came the reply, “one of those Death’s Angel mushrooms growing in the corner of the garden and it’s all over. Beautiful aren’t they? Beautiful but deadly. Just like you I’d venture to say, eh?”

“Beautiful? Me? Look at me, Vashj sobbed holding up her arms where the flesh stopped leaving bare bone at the elbows, I am hideous!”

“Now, now little one, that is something you will have to get over. Why if you went down to the tavern in Brill you could start a fight over who gets the first kiss as sure as Bob’s your uncle.”

A puzzled look crossed Vashj’s face.

“Never mind dear, it’s just an expression, but you get my point. It is something that you will just have to discover or yourself.”

“I’m not even an elf any more. I don’t even know what I am.” Vashj said as she reached for her long absent ears.

“Now don’t you know? Who you are is what is in your heart – not what is on the side of your head. If glowing eyes is all that made an elf, we would all be elves, after all we ALL have glowing eyes!”

Vashj raised her voice, nearly shouting this time.

“So give me one reason why I shouldn’t end all this pain right now by doing myself in?”

“Well that is something you will have to discover for yourself, Ellen continued calmly. I will say this. Do you know your history? Surely you have heard of Medivh? The last guardian of the Tirisfallen? When he was alive he was responsible for bringing the Burning Legion into the world again. Even though he wasn’t responsible because he was possessed, he felt he had to atone for his crime against humanity. What did he do? He came back from the dead to help put things right. He was the one who convinced the humans to ally with the orcs to fight the Burning Legion.”

“He came back from the dead to put things right?” Vashj repeated.

“Yes dear he did.”

Once again the pair sat in silence for along time as Vashj thought.

“So I am cursed to go through being undead, destined never to feel the wind on my face or the taste of good food.”

“Oh don’t be quite so dramatic, came the reply. Nothing of the sort. Why we wouldn’t bother to raise all these delicious mushrooms if that was the case.”

“But how can I taste the food, I haven’t got any nerve endings?”

“If that were truly the case, then you wouldn’t be able to move a muscle. You would be nothing but a quivering pile of flesh laying in an open tomb.”

Once again Vashj held up her elbow where the bone was exposed.

“Then why don’t I feel any pain?” she asked.

“Well Bob has a theory that he thinks answers both questions, don’t you know. Bob, say hello, Ellen McCreedy called out.”

From behind the hedge that surrounded the garden came a gardeners hat – a hat the surmounted a head that was little more than a skull. A skeletal hand waved in their direction then went back to work.

“Bob, feels that the reason he feels no pain in un-death is the same reason he felt no pain in life. Just give him ‘a beer and a mop’ he is wont to say. All kidding aside dear, that is one question I can’t answer for you after all these years. My only guess is it is part of the disease.”

“So how can I end this curse of un-death?”

“Well now, continued Ellen, don’t think if it so much as un-death as un-life; and don’t think of it as a curse so much as a second chance.”

“ A second chance? For what?”

“Ah that, said McCreedy, is an altogether different kettle of fish.”

...to be continued.

Next time....a new story starts

Vashj, part 3

With some trepidation Vashj made her way to the back of the church, carefully watching her footing – not just because of the condition of the floorboards, and the chance that she might fall through them – but also because she could not take her eyes off her feet. Her feet had once been small and delicate. Before it all began, before THEY came, she loved to run barefoot along the quiet paths of the forest. She had been looking down all the while she made her way to the church – lost in thought. Still it had never registered. Now her feet where boney and thin, ending in what appeared to be nearly claws instead of toes they where so thing and pointed. Yet, small feet are small feet…

At the back of the church was a lone figure with its back turned to her. The long pointed ears trailing out behind its head told her the person had once been an elf, without her even having to see a face. Between the creaking of the floorboards and the slapping of her bare feet she was surprised that the person did not look up as she approached. Instead he stared intensely at a sheet of parchment he held in his hands. What was not clear was whether this was mean to be derision or simply a sign of concentration. Without looking up the man in front of her spoke…


“Well, well. Says here your name is Vashj!”

The man turned and look at her; continuing to speak in a voice that must have once been deep and soothing but was now made somewhat raspy through are or decay – perhaps both.

“I have heard of ye’. My grandfather knew your family and his grandfather before him.”

Vashj smiled not realizing that what felt to her like a disarming smile was more of a sardonic grin to those around her.

“I am glad…” she began, only to be cut off in mid-sentence.

“Aye, the elf, now undead, continued, I have heard o’ ye’ – in fact your grandfather owned my grandfather. And it was not a debt of fealty what brought about that condition….it was just debt.”

Silence

“Aye, said the elf, not so glad now are ye’? and so it seems the sins of the parents have been inherited by the children. Not much o’ a high elf now are ye’?’

With that, the elf reached up and caressed his long graying ears. Paused. Then a twisted smile crossed his face.

“Ye have not even got yer ears any longer. Dropped ‘em somewhere did ye?”

Horror filled Vashj’s mind as her hand shot up to her head – and she realized that the elf was right.

Vashj, part 2

A church…

Vashj made her way down the road, feet slapping against the mud. The rain poured even harder, drenching her clothing right down to the skin…and bone. Lost in her thoughts, and astonished simply to be alive, some of the more…unappealing…changes to her body had escaped her. The veil that blurred her memories was pierced as if by a scream in the night; a scream that should have been coming from Vashj as she stared at her elbows in disgust. There, where once there had been lithe limbs covered by pristine skin was nothing but bone. She should be screaming in pain. Yet she felt nothing. Nothing that is but disgust. Disgust for her body, as much as disgust for the many things she had been and done in her life. It was the pain of those deeds, of who she had been, that seared her to the depths of her very soul. As memories returned, each one made her wish she could rip it from her mind. The pain that filled her for the wrongs she had done to her kinsman was nothing compared to what she had done to her god.

Her God…Elune…

She had turned her back not merely on her kinsman, but on her god. She had watched from the ramparts of the royal palace as demons tore the heart out of the land, and a people that were at the heart of that land. She followed her queen blindly, believing the world was being “purified” of corruption; not realizing that it was she and those like her who were at the heart of that corruption. She watched as the priestess’ of Elune died in battle, and died horribly, being ripped apart by demons. She had watched, and done nothing.

The followers of Elune. She had once counted herself in their number. Vashj realized that even if faith was in her head, it was never in her heart. She had seen those who dedicated there very lives to Elune ripped apart, as the land was ripped apart. If Elune was God, or even a god, how could she allow that?

“ How, Vashj asked herself, could she even tolerate ME to exist?”

“What’s that? Came a voice in answer.

Vashj looked up and saw a short man in long brown tattered robes, blocking her way. So lost in her thoughts was she, that she nearly ran into someone, not realizing that she had arrived at her destination. Before she could reply, the robed man continued.

“Talkin’ tae yerself are ye? Well I suppose a few hundred years in a tomb will have ye doin’ that. Ye best come inside out of this rain. Ye’ll be catchin’ yer death of cold otherwise eh?”

With a laugh he lead her inside the small church. There she found rows of pews inside what had become a worn down building. The building was sorely in need of repairs. Then again, so was she.

“Rest yer bones there next to the fire there, said the short man pointing to a small fire pit just to one side. Jus’ don’t get too close. Ye would nae want tae be lighten yerself on fire would ye? Fire is like that. It has a hard time tellin’ kindlin’ from bones. Ye will have tae be a bit more observant from now on. An’ I don’t just mean how ye nearly ran into me back there…the thing is most of the young ones like yerself ferget that they don’t feel things any more. No nerve endings don’t ya know. So ye’ll have tae be more careful from now on. Let yerself dry out and ye’ could go up in a puff o’ smoke!”

He sat down next to Vashj and looked her up and down, then referred to a small scrap of paper he pulled from an inner pocket of his robe.

“well, he continued…the name is Simon…mine that is not yours. I see from my schedule here that ye’ used to be known as ‘Vashj’ is that short fer somethin’ ? Sounds like it is. Well, no matter. Say you are a tall one aren’t you? I’ll jus’ be you used to be an elf eh? “

“Yes, I…” Vashj tried to interrupt but was cut off by the incessant chatter from the little man.

“No matter, no matter.. continued Simon. Don’t let that trouble you. No matter what ye were afore…good or bad, rich or poor we are all equals now. Look at me! I used tae be a dwarf! Well you know how the old expression goes…’we’re all the same under the skin’? Well now we are living proof’ he said with a loud guffaw. Actually UNLIVING proof I should say.”

Simon referred back to his paper. He read and shook his head for some time. The he looked back up at Vashj.

“Says here ye used tae be a HIGH elf! Well ms high an’ mighty elf…’ fer certain ye will have a lot tae atone fer. So I would say it’s off tae the priest trainer wi’ you. She’s right at the back o’ the church. Now get! Afore I ferget meself an’ dredge up some ol’ wounds.”

Vashj turned and headed off to the back of the church. Simon watched her turn and go. More to himself than anyone else, Simon added after her…

“I will have a bone tae pick wi’ ye later…and that’s fer sure.”

Vashj, a tale of the recent dead

A voice from behind Vashj startled her…

“Ah. You are awake at last! We were about ready to throw you on the pyre. You were starting to stink.”

Turning, Vashj saw the source of the voice – one of the undead. Instinctively Vashj reached for the sword that had once been her constant companion for so long, so long ago. The reason for the reaction, like everything in those first days, was a blur.

With a sniff in Vashj’s direction, the man addressing her continued.

“Wow, you do need a bath eh? A few hundred years in the tomb will build up quite a stench. You need a bath. The pausing, a large smile crossed his face and he slapped Vashj on the back with a boney hand. Just make sure things don’t start dropping off eh? Well, you had better go on down to the church, they are waiting for you. You have been asleep for quite some time.”

Vashj met the man’s humor with a blank stare, not knowing what to make of the situation. Her stare was answered by a gently guiding hand from the only ‘Human’ she had come in contact with since awakening.

“Well what ever it was, at least there was something that was enough to ‘wake the dead,’ so…they’re waiting for you down at the church.”

A puzzled stare from Vashj again was quickly answered.

“The church, down the road, second building on the left.”

What the man had mistaken for puzzlement over direction on Vashj’s part, was not that at all. As she stood listening to the man, all the while memories had come back to her…brief flashes…of herself in the midst of a pitched battle against the undead. She saw herself running a sword through men such as this one before her, thinking them no more than animated corpses. Something was different here. Here she found humor and a friendly smile where she thought there should be none.

Vashj headed down the road in the direction the unexpectedly jovial stranger had pointed her. More than any other affect her new state had on her, was an overwhelming sense not of confusion, so much as loss. She felt a burning desire to belong somewhere – anywhere. She ambled down the road…that in itself being a new sensation; not slithering, not a walk of stately grace…merely ambling. It began to rain; a downpour from the sky as if it were a sheet of water. With the coming of the rain, her already grey and dismal surroundings became even more miserable. Her bare feet slapped on the mud, that with the sound of the rain, created a cacophony of sound that formed a wall of white noise, making it even easier for her to ponder what was really puzzling her. That was her destination…