The Great Prolog
It still rememberd the last time it had died away from the mortal plane. But of coures that had been noting comperd to the eon's it had spent imprisoned. Wrestling whit the spirit of a orc shaman. It had been a primative prison, but non the less a strong one.
It had been it this prison that the Face Eater had started to plan it's risa to power. It would use the orcs, it would use any mortals it could ensnare. It would lay plans whit in it's plans. It would use the dead to trick the living.
It would get a new foothold in the mortal plane. And once it had returned to it's rightfull place of a minor god. It would join the struggle of it's parents, the Old Ones would rise anew! And the Face Eater would be among those whom would clear the way for the long awaited war whit the Titens! The foul inuders that had forced there acursed "order" on worlds that did not belong to them!
It had been long ago...
But it still rememberd how it had been imprisoned by the orc shamans of old. Long before any clan now even rememberd by the orc race even existed. Long before the orcs had come to listen to the spirits of the dead. Even long before all orcs even belived in any form of magic.
In that time the Face Eater had hunted the orcs. In there dreams, and in there visions. It had even made many it's followers. Making them belive that having there spirits eaten by there god was a path to bliss. They had called it "He-Whom-Is-Many" killed and died in it's namn.
It had been a glorious time for the Face Eater. His orcs had made war, orgies and sacrifice's in it's glory. But not all orcs loved it or its followers. Many shamans started to call it "the Twister of Dreams" or more often the "Twister of the Spirit" in the old orc toung. But in time they simply called it "Deamon", Twisted Spirit.
This shamans belived that the Deamon was a sick that was spreding it's poison to grow in power. And that sort of illness could only be treated in one way. The source had to be cut of from thos whom could become ill.
Thos they triked the followers of the Deamon to atemt to be born in to the mortal plane. This had been to great a temptation for the Face Eater. And so it had tryed to be born, using it's high priestess as it's vessel.
But as it was being born in to the world the orcs whom saw it's evil had attacked. There eldest and most powerfull shaman had traped it's essens. And then the martch started...
The orcs had taken the Deamon to the highest and wildest of the Blade Edge mountens. Found a cavern far below the great mountens and there they had chained the Face Eater and the old shaman to the rock. Placing runes all over the ston walls, floor and roof. And lasly collapsing the entrens of the cavern.
And there the Face Eater had been left... To root.
It was only millenium later when Ner'Zhule shatterd the world that it had at last died. And been free once more.
And it was free now... It's first plans had faild... But then it had many more pland ready to take there place.
The Face Eater had never expected to be called so soon after it's death. It's followers knew better then to ask it for aid when it was weakened like this. But then again, other creatures. Not interested in it's power, but it's knowledge might well call on it now.
And even tho it did not whise for it. It had to follow the pull and send a image of itself to the mortal plan.
Xímrana had expected a foal being but the true face of the Face Eater made her shiver. It was as a hole of pure blackness had taken from in front of her. And this blackness had the most ill-willed blood red eyes, nina of them, glaring at her. It's three mounts seamed to glow from whit in whit a sickly green.
And all around was it's tentaclearms. If it had not been for the spirits of the dead standing next to her. Her mother, the orc warlock and a few others. She would have run screaming from the mear sight of it.
Then the three mounts moved as one and spoke.
"Why have you called for me?"
"I have called to demand that you tell me of your followers!" the young shaman stated. The Face Eaters laughed at her.
"You have no power over me! You are a insect and I am a god!"
"If you are a god and I a insect then why don't you enslave me here and now?" Asked Xímrana.
The Face Eater did not answer, but the angry hiss told the young shamaness all she needed to know.
"Because you can't... You're to weak... And you will be just as weak until your followers start to give you new souls to torment!"
"I will see you and all of those whom have bound themselfs to you scream for mercy for the next millennial girl! I can wait! My servants are hidden! You can't find them!" roared the Face Eater and whit the small piece of power it had it broke free of the shaman.
It had been close. If the shaman had been stronger or more skilled she could have imprisoned the Face Eater.
It could only hope she did not know that...
And thinking that the Face Eater drifted in to the memories of the young shaman
Breaking the Totems
The old orc had trying hard to redeem himself. Taking up every call to fight for the Horde in the many battles around the world. But where ever he went, one thing as still pressing at his mind. The dragon bone totems.
He knew in his heart that he could not destroy the Heart of his former master. He could not and would not, for even tho he hated to even admit it to himself he had come to love the power the dark arts gave him. He also knew that as long as he had the means he might well break his own vow.
As long as he could create the elixir there was the risk that he did...
There for he had to get rid of the totems. For that reason he when in to the wilds of the Grizzly Hills to destroy them.
He attempted to destroy them whit his magics, but they simply absorbed the energies of his attacks. They he tried to command his felguard to break them whit his strength but a demons power comes from the dark arts so the totems could not be broken by the demon.
Then Burgrsch toke the totem in to his own hands and started to bend them one at a time. But his hands where old and week and dragon bones are not easy to bend.
Enraged the old orc pulled out his sword and hit the totems. And when the mighty weapon hit the totems they shattered. The release of the energies locked in to them sending the warlock flying.
Shaken but pleased the old one left the place and started back to the Hold.
Unknown to the orc another being had been watching. The Face Eater grinned wickedly, one of it's seeds had been planted. Soon it would grow in power once more!
Thinking of that it recalled one that might be of great use to it's plot.
The dream was all ways the same. Elrics Fallbranch and his trusted dog Kail was out hunting near the wall. The rumors about some dark monster had lead many of the bolder men of the countryside to take to the woods.
The woods where dark, there was a mist in the air that seamed to make everything gray. Elrics held his crossbow tight, ready to open fire and kill the fiend as soon as it showed itself.
Kail tracking the beast stopped and raised his head. The dog turned and snarled at the dark woods. Elrics was at his pets side whit in seconds, leveling his crossbow.
There on a hill it stood. Far taller then any human, it held a dead cow in it's claws. It had the face of a feral wolf, but stood upright like a man.
Whit out hesitating Elrics pulled the trigger. The bolt hit the monster in the neck and it let out a howl of pain. It turned to attack the hunter and his dog, but it was to late.
Other men of the region had now also located the wolf man. And they came out of the woods firing crossbow bolts as they came. In only a few seconds the best was down.
They all cheered there victory. It was then that things changed.
For when Elrics came to the hill it was not a wolf man that lied dead there. But a man, one of his neighbors, even tho that was a horror that was not the worst.
For the men who had aided him in the hunt where now all beasts themselves. Tho non of them seamed to notice it. They acted like men did after slaying a monster. They slapped Elrics on the back whit there clawed hands and treated the dead mans body like a dead animals.
One of them even started to skin him whit his claws. The way Elrics had skinned bears and stags. Another cut out the dead mans meat and handed out the pieces, even offering Elrics some.
Then Elrics could not take anymore... So he ran...
And as he ran the scene changed one more. He was no longer in the woods, but in the chapel. It was a funeral, for the man he had killed. The priest talked about the feral beasts that had done this to the poor man.
And as he did his eyes seamed to look on Elrics. The eyes filled whit fear, he pointed at him. Screaming one word: "WORGEN!"
Now all turned to view Mr Fallbranch. They all had fear in there eyes, mixed whit anger. Elrics knew what should have followed, the people should have turned on him ripping him limb from limb but they did not.
Instead the chapel turned to a odd shade of green and a odd being, hooded and clocked stepped in. It resemble that of a elf, at least the ones Elrics had heard of from the stories to the east. Like most of his people he had never left Gilneas.
But this being seamed to tall and had a blueish tone to it's skin. Elrics found that it seamed to be studying him as much as he studied it.
"What are you?" he heard himself ask in a voice far to dark to be his own.
"I am one of the Highborn... Question is... Do you know what you are?" the odd being asked.
"I am a man!"
The statement was meet whit a spiteful laughter. "Oh? I have seen 'men' before but non as... Bestial as you"
"Look at you hands"
Elrics looked at his hands. They where not the hands of a human, but that of a monster. They where the clawed hands of a Worgen. The sight made Elrics shiver, being ripped apart by the mob seamed less horrid now.
"This is no meer dream mortal... This is a vision... This!" the highborn said and poked Elrics claws. "Is what you are ment to be! Not a week simple man!"
"No... This is only a nightmare!" Elrics cried in panic.
"Is it?" as the highborn said those last words he faded, and the mob fell over Elrics.
Mr Fallbrsch woke and screamed out his terror. But as always, his wife's loving embrace could not stop the feeling of dread. And worse yet, he knew he was not the only one. All over the Kingdom men, women and children dreamt about truing in to wolfs.
The veins of the univers
The room was cowerd in total darkness, except for the blue glowing veins. They apperd as blood veins or a root system, some of them never touched one another while others became one at many points. If one where to study the blue veins a pattern would be seen. For every last one of the veins circulated around the highborn mage who sat in the middel of the room.
The veins traveled up his body and painted odd patterns on his body, and centerd around his heart and eyes. The mage was known as the Ebon Raven and had lived and studyed the arts of the Arcane for the last 10.000 years. He had in his studys found a path to power and greatness that most of his kind would call folly.
The ley lines are the ultimate power in the univers. Non could stand against there power! The ebon raven had even lurnt to walk the Emeral Dream whit the use of ley lines. The ley lines where apart of all things, all things where ruled by them. And there for the one to rule the ley lines ruled all!
This and more he had lurned from his master. The Face Eater, and soon, oh so soon, it would call on him. Soon the world would changed forever and the weak fools that where the great druids would lift the exile. The Highborn would be alowed to return and he would become the great instrument of his master. He, and only he, would lead the chosen to imortalaty.
All the Old God's and there children asked of the mortals was total obidiance and a few sacrifies. Was that realy that much to ask?
Then he felt it. A whisper in his mind, a simpel mental comand from the Face Eater. "It is time!" was all the master said to him. But that was eough. It was time to start his bloody work. Time to betray the brotherhood of Highborn magi he had surved for the last 4000 years. The Ebon Raven smiled, he would enjoy this.
The Great Epilog