The wind was cold on this particular day. It was overcast, as was the case the closer to the corpse of the pit lord Aggonar a traveller got. On the back of his Warhorse did Plaguesby ride, not an impressive sight to be seen. His armour was small and hardly intimidating, he himself was a willowy weak looking forsaken. As he got closer to the bog-like environment that was wrought by the decaying demon, he could smell the rancid corruption that leaked in between the mud and stones and created the Pools of Aggonar; nothing more than a toxic swamp of blood and rot.
Plaguesby was terrified of this place. Its smell and atmosphere had him quaking in fear of what he was about to do, but he knew it had to be done... He had to gather the right items needed for a deed that matched the corruption of the Pools. He dismounted, immediately his heavy boots met sticky mud. “Ech,” He complained, stomping forward to the nearest high ground. He summoned his Eye of Kilrogg and began to overlook the area. There were a few beefed up demons and horrid oozes, however they didn’t seem to pay mind to the forsaken as he poked around their home. His eye rested upon the decaying remains of the pit lord and he began his trek forward. He was oh-so careful about avoiding the pool. He was scared of the implications of falling straight into pit lord blood and disgusting rot.
He was lead to this point by a very intelligent little orc. He was in Orgrimmar, he recalled as he made his way towards the cavernous gut of the long-deceased monster. In orgrimmar’s horribly supplied library, he had hit a wall, the undead found his life spinning out of control since being told his daughter was still alive and in the clutches of the insanity that was the Alliance. And a paladin, no less. Not only did they fail to assist Gilneas, they were the cause of the death of him, his wife, and-- previously thought- his daughter. But she was very much alive, they took her and made her into a weapon in his absence. He wanted to crush Stormwind, he wasn’t in this fight for the Horde anymore. He wanted to force pain on those who take with no consequences. He would have nightmares of the night he died. If the alliance would have helped, he would be alive, with his family, in the walls of Gilneas.
He tossed another book aside, accidentally hitting a young orc who had her nose in a book that didn’t belong in the library as it seemed to try to fly from her as she wrote in it. “Ow! Please don’t throw the books, they aren’t for that...” His Eye zoomed to investigate as he apologized. Their conversation slowly went from introduction to demonic history. She was very well versed in something Orcs were forbid from learning; Demonology and Warlocks. She told him of Gul’Dan, of summoning creatures more powerful than void walkers and Felguards. Pit Lords, she called them. Immense monsters that might be controllable, if by the correct hands.
Plaguesby climbed into the cave that used to be the abdomen of the beast. His eye showed the glowing substance that was still slowly draining down the walls of what was left of the creature. The monster was held together by magic and the odd moisture of the Pools. He would need the liquid for his task ahead. He climbed, carefully, amongst mud and stones and pulled forth a vial. As quickly as he could manage, the warlock filled it with a stream of the blood that seemed to continuously pour down the innards of he beast. The smell was horrid and Plaguesby made a motion to leave quickly.
This was not a good idea. His concentration on his Eye was broken, leaving him suddenly blind and attempting to get away from the monsters’ enormous belly. He slipped, his heart flew into his throat as he fell into a pool. A nightmare in and of itself as the Warlock was assaulted with textures and power he fought hard to avoid. He writhed, trying to find a way to the surface, only to swim straight into the bottom of the pond. He turned quickly, letting out a strangled scream as the fel-blood invaded his lungs.
Above the pool and away from the corpse, a lone woman rider on a dread raven watched the forsaken struggle to the surface and unleash an inordinate amount of fel-energy, turning into something inhuman before returning to his original, weak, state. He collapsed at the poolside, his horse trouncing into the giant rotted body to get him. He climbed on weakly and began his ride to the nearest village.
