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Of Ignorance and Bliss

McIan

Journeyman
"I thought it was you and now I know," Scar stated, standing some ten paces behind and slightly to the left of his mark. He had his blade out and shield readied, but not necessarily to attack this time.

Magnus turned to face him, hands empty. "You have me at a disadvantage old friend. Strike if you will; it will be your one and only chance," he calmly replied, opening his arms wide.

"I did not come here to kill you but neither will I die by your hand. I want to know what happened to you; I can see for myself you are not what you once were."

They were standing in front of a structure called "Castlemare" one of several that had recently been built in the area of Sanctuary. Clearly, the design of the building was of gargish design - stately but, at the same time, mysterious. Magnus was preparing to enter it when Scar accosted him.

Magnus pulled back the hood that covered his head. When he did, he thought he heard Scar draw in his breath. The decaying flesh drooping from his mouth and chin contorted into a toothy grin. Twin red pinpoints of ethereal light glowed from eye sockets remaining focused, unblinking, on the man who stood before him. "I am not. Much has happened which is none of your concern. Suffice to say, your own father is responsible though not alone. I am cursed and undead. Does this frighten you?"

Scar shook his head. "No. I have seen in my life the worst of the worst. I am only surprised that a good soul as you had could be so perverted... though I am not surprised who is responsible. You are a Death Knight, in service to him."

"Not in service though I do maintain a bond of sorts. I am in service to another, and she is nearby, perhaps even moments away. You cannot defeat the both of us, wolf man. I advise you to go while you still may. Be prudent and survive."

Scar looked about him and sniffed the air. His ability to detect unusual odors was fading slowly. He could only smell the scent of death upon Magnus; all else was masked. He felt a bizarre pang of pity. He knew this man for a long time and knew him to be honorable, virtuous, an aspiring paladin of note. Now he reeked of the tomb, one who was torn, ravaged by evil, and perhaps given over to it. "What do I do with you, Magnus? You have broken my heart. If I tell Itannar and the others what has become of you, it will break theirs. Can I help you my brother?"

There was a labored stillness. Magnus looked away and then to his bony hands. "I don't know, friend Scar. I don't know if I want you to." He looked up suddenly and glared. "Go now! Tell them nothing. Leave us be! I will seek no harm to you if you go away and never see me again! Find your own way in this life if you can. Hold tightly to she whom you love; she is worth suffering anything is she not?"

"That and more," Scar admitted.

"Then you know my own mind and I accept it as gladly as would you. Flee now. She is coming and she will not spare you."

Scar sheathed his kryss, sighed, and turned away walking slowly back to Sanctuary, deliberating knowledge that would surely bring only pain and sorrow if shared.
 

McIan

Journeyman
When the drunk wore off from the night at Que's tavern, Scar realized he made a terrible mistake: he had foolishly blabbed about Magnus to Demi. As he lay in the bed, head throbbing incessantly, he sighed and sought to find a means to redress the situation. His love was an idealist to the core; it was what made her, her, and he loved it in her. For without it, he would not be who he was now or with her, sharing their life together in what could be termed, bliss. She lay beside him, fast asleep, while the first rays of dawn filtered through the window filling the room with the perfect golden glow of morning's hope. He looked at her face, bathed in the soft caress of sunlight's gleam. Surely she would tell Itannar, Magnus' uncle, and then, Vospar Nylam, Magnus' older brother, who had been searching for him also, would find out. Together, and after a period of mourning, they would join forces to subdue Magnus to force him back to the Light. From what he had seen, they would fail miserably, likely ending with one or more serious injuries or even death. Whoever she was that Magnus had mentioned as being with him, was no one to be taken lightly. In fact, she was most probably an undead creature herself, perhaps even Mahal, the bar maid he had fallen for. His mind traced along that theme until it came to him… his father… he had stopped him from killing Magnus the night he fled from Sanctuary. Evidently he had some interest in him, sparing his life by intervening on his behalf when the werewolf that he was stood ready to tear him apart. As painful as it would be, he would have to face his father again, to ask him about this and if possible, make some kind of arrangement to save the young-paladin-gone-awry from his dreadful destiny. Maybe that is what the Elder desired of him, even waiting for him to arrive at such a conclusion. Already the Elder had interfered with his cure by cursing the golden necklace he now wore, which, nevertheless, had some mild effect by inhibiting his anger which triggered the transitions empowered by a full moon.

His father was not known for his charity or compassion. His life was one of perpetual torment and pain, fully deserved from the monstrous choices he had made in an undying existence that should have ended long, long, ago.

The thread of thoughts shifted. He thought back to his childhood and the father he once knew and loved; a devout and devoted paladin of Trinsic, much like the man he now served under.

Demi stirred and opened her eyes. He turned and his own meet hers. She smiled and he returned it. Their day had begun and they had much to discuss.
 
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