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| - Shara Heartroot shivered, not only from the cold but also in anticipation. She was going to meet him last she had seen him up close had been when he had come to clame her husband. A member of the Cult of the Damned. She had fallen to her knees begging him not to take her husband. He had then offered her to join whit the Cult and be whit her husband for ever and ever. She had accepted, at first for the love she felt for her husband. And then to survey next to him, and as time passed, she lost her love but gained something ells. She had a purpose, there was meaning to exists, that meaning was to follow the command of the Lich King. She could hardly remember her husbands name, and if they did not shear the same living quarters she doubted she even remember how he looked. She knew they would never have children, unless there King commanded it, but that did not make her sad. It had ones but that was long ago now. As she climbed the steers to her beloved King she found that she wanted to see him. The feeling was so strong that she knew that if she would fall and die her spirit or dead body would walk up the steers. Now she could see him, a small court of Necromancers and other servants in circle him. Whit a wave that was so small that non would have seen it if not all eyes had been on his smallest movement commanded that the court parted to give Shara room. She walked forward and fell to her knees, kissing the icely foot of her King. "Speak Cultist" her god said to her. He had spoken to her, she this small miserable little shell of a human. "My King, I have news... " she started then cut herself short. How was she to say this, how could she even think of speaking to this God, it was hybris even to think so. "Shara, stop! I may be your god, but as all Kings I have use of my servants. So you most tell me why your master Kel'Thuzad send you here?" said the God siting on the throne before her. "Y-you... know my... " "Of course I do... Now pleas Shara, speak!" "As you command." she said and felt how badly she wanted to tell him. "Master Kelthuzad has sent me to tell you that the Age of Prophecy is upon us. The final sighs will soon be well known by all. The mortals will try to break us as we did the Legion. We most be ready my Lord. My King I can travel faster back to my Master if I am one of the holy undead." Her God smiled and then spoke: "No... You will be my spy in Dalaran. I feel that your mind is strong and your love for me is great. Now go!" Lowering her head, crying she ones more kissed her Gods foot. And then she walked away crying. Not only because she had not been given the gift of undeath but also because she had to leave her god. A part of her wanted to jump of the tower and fall to her death, but that would mean going against her Kings will. And that she could not do. Sleeping next to the Pools of Vision as she often did they came to her. Or two of them did in any case. Ther'Zule the Burner of Souls, thin and sickly circled her several times before the other of the Masters of Old appeared. Azurix the Mask of Fear soon followed, he was far more calm and seamed at home in his spirit form. "Wake her! Wake her now!" demande Ther'Zule. "Patience fool! She will wake soon, she feel our presens..." said Azurix calmly. "What is it you want?" asked to young half-orc slowly raising from her sleep. "Is that any way to speak to your dark gods!" hissed Ther'Zule "We come bearing news from the Master. He commands that you speak the Heart of Cenarius, tell the Council that the Masters of Old commands this!" answered Azurix. "I will do as you ask... But I am not sure Mistress Blackheart will hear me..." "She is blinded by the greatness of the Master... His mind sends all he sees and knows in to hers... But no mortal can Handel vision as that! That is why we can only tell you to look for the heart and to start looking in Felwood!" hissed Ther'Zule and snarled. "I understand... I will tell my father and the mistress... If she won't listen... Then so be it..." "Good... We will be watching you shaman... The Shadow Wars has begon..."
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