The inn is beautifully furnished, and very pleasing to the eye (as is all Blood Elf architecture.) It sharply contrasts the poverty of the lower city, where you had passed through minutes ago. Those on the upper levels of Shattrath certainly live much more extravagantly. You give the innkeeper a nod as you walk back into the den. As you enter the commons you furrow your brow and wrinkle up your nose a bit as you catch the scent of undeath.
In the middle of the room near a hookah, with an assortment of silk pillows you see an imp scurrying about, uttering obscenities and knocking things over. You snicker. You hear a faint mutter from the corner of the room, you look over and see an undead (one of the Forsaken) sitting alone at a table. He doesn’t notice you as he thumbs through a large, glowing tome. Without looking up, the undead suddenly yells “Garjub! Shut the fuck up!” The imp stops for a second to look up at his master, then goes back to running around the room.
You examine the undead warlock sitting at the table. He is dressed in elaborate robes and cloth armor. On the floor beside him there is a large, beautifully crafted sword (of Ethereal design if your memory serves you right.) You turn away from the warlock and head towards one of the beds in the back. You sit down on the end of the bed it and yawn.
The Warlock finally notices your presence, and glances over at you. You immediately notice something strange. There are two leather straps criss-crossing his face in an X and covering his eyes. “Oh, hello…” he says, and returns to his tome before you can respond. “Uhh… hi, my name is-...” you start. “Manni, Mannimarco… Master Demonologist.” He says, without looking up. “Hey…” there is a long silence after that. You look down at the floor.
“So… what’s the deal with the straps on the face?” Manni closes his tome and turns his chair towards you “Are you really interested in knowing, or just making idle chat? That’s kind of a long story…” You scratch the back of your head “Yah, sure… I’ve got time.” The Warlock grins a bit, tilts his head back and looks up at the ceiling. You’re not really sure if he is actually looking at anything. Common sense would suggest that he is blind. “I’m not blind.” he says with a chuckle. “Huh?” you tense up, and wonder if he’s reading your thoughts. “A lot of people ask about this… I’m used to it, you know?” “Oh… right” you relax yourself a bit. “Okay so… where to start…” Manni pauses for a bit to think “Years ago, I was a mage…” he stops for a second “a human mage… I became bored with arcane magic, transmutation,” he cocks his head to the side “turning stuff into sheep and whatnot… but mostly I hated the bureaucracy of the Mages Guild, the rules of what we could and could not research. I hated the order… the restraint, those smug bastards…” he clears his throat.
“At that time In my region necromancy was strictly forbidden… I’ve always had a fascination with death… how ironic…” You chuckle nervously. “I left the Mages guild to study necromancy in secret. As time passed I took on a few apprentices. We began to reanimate bodies from the local cemeteries. At first these undead could only be reanimated for a few hours, and were incapable of doing even the most simple of tasks.
But I soon perfected my methods. I don’t want to drag this out too long…. anyway… I began to gain a following of others interested in the dark arts. We eventually formed our own secret society of necromancers.
I was the leader. They called me Mannimarco… The King of Worms.” He gives you a smug grin as he says this. “But…” his expression becomes serious again “I became over-confident… I thought I could overthrow the mages guild. I launched several attacks along with my followers.
We killed many of them, managed to burn down an academy… the cowards didn’t have the strength to face me themselves… they sent an assassin to kill me in my sleep.” Mannimarco reaches behind his head, and unhooks the straps around his head. You wince as he removes them. He has no eyes; they have been torn out of his head. A grotesque X-shaped scar is now visible across his entire face where the straps had previously covered. “They didn’t just kill me… they had the audacity to cut out my eyes, mutilate my face, and…” Manni undoes the front of his robe and unbuttons his shirt, a large symbol has been carved across his entire chest “the ultimate humiliation in death… to carve the symbol of the Mages Guild into my flesh…” he spits on the floor in disgust , as he buttons up his shirt and adjusts his robe.
He stops for a moment to reattach the leather straps onto his head. “As the fates would have it, a short time later the Great Plague swept over the land… I awoke, blind and confused in the crypts of Deathkn-…” “I though you said you weren’t blind…” You ask, now confused Manni gives an annoyed grunt. “I’m getting to that, hold on…” You nod. “I’m sorry, go on.” “Since there was now an entire race of undead, necromancy seemed unnecessary” He laughs a bit at that “I turned my focus to demonology, and became a warlock. To answer your question, I see using a spell similar to the Eye of Kilrogg… minus the big glowing eye…” “Ahhh, I see” you nod, suddenly realizing that you really should have thought of that yourself. “So, yah, that’s why I have the straps.” Manni mutters and turns back to his tome and goes back to reading You start to say something, but decide against it… you shake your head a bit and you and flop back into the bed. Manni looks up for a second.
“oh hey, if you need a lock for an instance, send me a /tell, k?” “kk, btw wanna buy some gold?” “/ignore” Read more on Last.fm. User-contributed text is available under the Creative Commons By-SA License; additional terms may apply..
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