The Rise of Keelath, Part Six

This originated as a snippet of Keelath’s thoughts when Tyrdan started dating Lellith in an ingame roleplay of World of Warcraft. A few minor details have changed now that Tyrdan is Tyrric and Alelsa is Lellith (with Lellith gaining another role in the Sunwalker story), so this post has seen a facelift, too.

–and now make that two facelifts, with the expansion of The Rise of Keelath story.

Author’s Note

I consumed a tuskarr who had crossed my path. I have not fed for a few days. As ever, it is a whiplash inside me. The rush, the sweetness, the sharp crack of another piece of my spirit.

My memories are fading faster now. I never realized how much emotion is tied to them. I keep on the search for Mirium—Tyrric does not understand my haste. Once my memories are gone, only Mirium’s safety being my duty will keep me on the trail, if another duty does not override it first. I want to hold her in my arms one more time while I still can love her. That may never come to pass.


I rode away from Dawnmist tonight. My head is a bit full. I felt angry at my brother, but mostly just sad.

I am losing him. I cannot accept his choice of mate. Maybe it is hypocritical, but a woman who employs dark magic willingly is not someone I can like. Nor do I think much of her work ethic. I don’t fear for Tyrric—in most ways he can take care of himself, and in all others… He was been warned: he chose not to heed.

I think he believes me outdated in this. I do not see true values as ever outdating. I have suffered enough being forced to go against my own conscience already; I will not subject myself to more by condoning this.

I wonder too, at the title and the manor. I could not take them back without some major trouble with the magistrates or my brother. I do not think that battle necessary yet. Maybe ever. I do not think much of my brother’s work ethic either, but it will suffice.


I fought with Tyrric this night. He has been sneaking back to Silvermoon, not to rest from our search, but to dally with his whore. I fed afterward for relief, and shortly again before I spoke to him tonight, in case the drive to kill became too great and I found him on my sword.

Memories of my brother are also fading with each whiplash of the kill. I would be more upset if it weren’t for our upheaval. Instead I see it with relief, and some regret. We won’t be mended before I will be laying him to rest with the last of my memories. And then?

Only my loyalty to my liege lady will remain. It will hurt him. He will not understand. There was never any other fate.


I felt a release on leaving Silvermoon. I am not to go back there, I think.

Off the boat in Northrend, I hunted. There are humans in these woods, who still resist the Dark Lady’s call. They will nourish me before they serve her.

My purpose blooms inside me with each kill. I am Forsaken. This is the burden we all bear—the hunger, the separation of family, the double standard of our morals. I knew the memories returning would be but a short respite from this fate. …perhaps, a distraction.

My lady grows impatient. Maybe my brother will be right in believing Mirium can take care of herself. My lady’s plans will not wait much longer.

But I still have my duty here yet to fulfill. To Mirium. While I still remember, nothing will override that loyalty. I must find her and see her home safely.

The Rise of Keelath, Part Five

I couldn’t decipher how much of the reports of Evelos’ Shadow corruption was coming from Tyrric’s own madness or was true, and I was unable to investigate for as long as he lived in Stormwind. The urgency to act before my memories slipped from me entirely was becoming more frantic. Mirium still lived, or at least I had heard no news to the contrary. Dark rumors regarding her and a failed marriage to a cruel magister was surfacing in Silvermoon.

While Evelos looked after his pregnant lover and Tyrric tried in vain to beget the same condition in Alelsa, I knew it would have to be my duty to find Mirium. I try not to be resentful, but it was hard not to see his foolishness as the result of Alelsa’s manipulations. Continue reading “The Rise of Keelath, Part Five”

Letters Exchanged

When reading back over these as part of the Great Revision, I discovered they were actually quite good. So, I’m officially taking them out of the black hole of my roleplay tagged posts and making it into a more public-facing post!

Here we have Keelath trying to reconnect with Evelos, better known as, Evelos has a snit.

Author’s Note

Dear Evelos,

I write to let you know Continue reading “Letters Exchanged”

The Rise of Keelath, Part Four

Originally published on January 5th, 2022.

This part contains some events I intend to return to in more detail in another series, but for now, my goal is in bridging the gap between The Rise of Keelath and What Darkness Lies, so Tyrric’s adventures trying to bring Evelos back to the Horde is a summary, only.

Author’s Note

The immediate effects of the restoration – my breathing and bodily sensations – wore off within days of the ritual, but the memories of my old life remained.

At first, I wanted to spend more time with my brother, reliving our past experiences and reknitting our fractured relationship. At first, he was just as overjoyed by my restoration as I was, but as the days passed, that faded, and his distraction returned. Something had changed, and while he explained it away as his excruciating experiences during the Second and Third Wars, I worried.

I grew better acquainted with Alelsa too, and I grew to dislike her more with each passing day. Tyrric’s distraction seemed to increase in proportion to how much she was around him, and I didn’t think this was any coincidence. Still, I was unable to move against her, not wanting to jeopardize Tyrric’s love just as much as my own sense of honor kept me from accusing her of wrong-doing before I was sure. Tyrric was utterly enamored with her, gushing on her beauty and cleverness unless I shut him up with a slap.

We instead turned to the problem of Evelos. Continue reading “The Rise of Keelath, Part Four”

The Rise of Keelath, Part Three

Originally posted on January 4th, 2022.

Author’s Note

Tyrric often returned to Silvermoon for the army’s allotted recuperation and vacation periods. Perhaps my dismissals were beginning to work on him, as he seemed more distracted whenever he showed up again. Continue reading “The Rise of Keelath, Part Three”

The Rise of Keelath, Part Two

The timeline on this one is a little strange, as the first part of The Rise of Keelath includes the Lich King’s defeat, while this one spends some time with Keelath while he was employed by Sylvanas pre-Wrath of the Lich King. The confusion might be canon on Keelath’s part, for his mental faculties took a while to kick in as one of the Scourge ghouls and then an early Forsaken death knight.

Though the publish date of this reads as April 1st, 2019, this was actually written on January 4th, 2022. The plugin I use to tie series together is outdated and can only organize posts by date, hence the confusion.

Author’s Note

I do not sleep. My mind pulls tighter to the same thought, circling it like water spinning down a drain. Hours pass, the sun leaving different shadows of color across the cave mouth that leads to what is to be my mausoleum. The hunger grows rather than abates. I see blood, focus on its feel in my mouth, the re-beating of my heart as I chase imaginary prey. I struggle to see them as something other-than, comrades or family — people, not my quarry. It becomes harder as time draws on.

I feel the power of my limbs fade as the rot of stolen flesh advances. I build up my frost magic, feeling it not as a chill on my skin but as an easing of the faint disconcerting hum that the Lich King replaced my sense of pain with. I work the ice as a tomb for myself, to keep the rot-inducing warmth out and to keep myself safe within.

Yet this, too, drains me. I see now I am not one of the simple Forsaken, who can lose themselves to long meaningless stretches of existence, whiling away sleepless hours with book reading or water fetching. I was a death knight of the Lich King: an elite soldier, a shock troop. I was given the endless bloodlust so I would have motivation enough to carry out his will.

I could struggle with it, endlessly, and go mad from it. Or, and I am not sure if my logic was colored by the relentless urge, I could find an acceptable way to sate it. I needed another war. Continue reading “The Rise of Keelath, Part Two”