Story of Konowa: Part 2

Much of this story was thought up on the spot when one day Caly and I were sitting in Winterspring. I told her out of character that this would be the place where Kon was from. Soon we got back into characters and the basis of this story was told. The pain my character felt, slowly leaking into me, it made me sad. But as you will read, hopeful too. 

Since then I have back stories to several other characters, though not all written down. I wrote bits of a story for a guild I was in, the story from my perspective. I had a lot of fun, and would love to do something like it again.

Weird thing was I was always comfortable with role playing my character, but when it got into a large group of people, I had a hard time and mostly sat there not talking unless spoken too. Several of the people from the guild helped push me out of that, and more of my characters were able to come out. It was nice to combine a game I loved to play, with my writing that I love so much to do. 

Below is the last part of the story of Konowa. Warning: This section is very violent. It has a lot of senseless violence that is pivotal to the development of the character.

The orc drew a knife with his other hand and made a slice on the boy’s cheek. Konowa’s son cried from the pain but his eyes never left his fathers. The orc made a few more cuts to his son. Then with a quick jab, he stabbed the boy in the stomach, twisting the blade to cause maximum damage. The boy spit up blood and his eyes began to roll. The boy had no strength to scream anymore. As the blood dripped to the ground, his life began to fade. Konowa kept his son’s gaze as long as he could. Finally, the orc threw the dying boy into the burning house behind him.

The boy cried for a short time before the smoke and the fires ended his pain. Konowa could not even find the strength to cry for his son. Then the troll pulled a jagged knife from his belt and held Konowa’s wife by the hair. “Joo will suffer mon, more dan any otha.” Then with a single swipe, the troll sliced his wife’s throat and dropped her in front of him. He watched as the blood ran from her neck staining the ground red. Her eyes held neither fear nor pain. He saw only the love she had for him since they met. He tried to hold onto that love, if only for a little while.

She faded quickly from the living. Konowa felt the last sting of humanity break in him. He let himself go limp, slowly choking his own life away. The orc saw this and walked over. “It is not your time yet. I will decide when it is that you die.” The orc took the bloody knife he used to stab Konowa’s son and cut the robe holding Konowa up. He could feel his binding being cut, but he didn’t have the strength to try to fight.

The orc kicked him a few more times before he issued commands to leave the area. After the soldiers where packed and filled with as much loot as they could carry, the warlord came back to Konowa. “Now you will die. But know this before you do, your wife didn’t even try to fight me.” He then turned his back on the beaten Konowa and walked away.

With what little strength Konowa had left, he got to his feet and charged the warlord. He jumped onto his back and grabbed his head tight. With a single swift twist, Konowa snapped the orcs neck and almost twisted the head off. He grabbed the swords of the warlord and got ready to fight his last fight. The swords in his hand seemed to give him power he hadn’t felt before. He looked down and saw a name etched on the blade of the swords, Bloodrazor. He was carrying twin swords, swords that had a thirst for blood.

He moved swiftly into the group of orcs and began to slice through them. He felt a swelling inside him, none like he had ever felt. The feeling was wonderful. In what felt like a few seconds, the orcs were dead and all that stood before Konowa now was the one troll.

“What joo thinken mon. Want ta try dis?” The orc twirled a sword in each hand. Konowa stepped forward swinging his sword at the troll. He was quick. The troll rolled to the side and swiped at Konowa. Konowa dodged nicely and struck at the troll. The troll parried and spun. Stepping in, he hit Konowa hard in the back with the pommel of the sword. Konowa fell forward as he fell he spun slicing the troll’s thigh leaving a large wound pouring blood down the troll’s leg. The troll fell to the ground.

Konowa got up and walked over to the troll. He looked down at the troll. As the troll moved for a weapon, Konowa swiped with his sword and took the hand from the troll. “You took all that I had, as you said you would. Now know this, I will hunt down everyone of your family. Until there is nothing of your blood left in the troll race. When I find that troll that was special to you, and I will find her, I will slowly kill her and tell her that this was a present, with love, from you.” Konowa then sliced a single wound open on the troll’s chest and a single slice at the back of the troll’s foot. Konowa then turned and walked away. The wound wouldn't kill the troll, it was only meant to hurt, but the slow loss of blood from the hand will. His death would be long and painful.

Konowa went into the fire and removed his son’s body. He turned over a cart and placed his son and his wife beside each other. He kissed them both for the last time and lit the cart on fire. He turned around and began walking away, absently rubbing the forth finger on his left hand. Fires had burned the ring into his finger. He would be left with a scar in place of his wedding band.

Konowa left Winterspring that day with two new swords and nothing left to loose. He worked his way back to Darkshore and then headed to Stormwind. He found a place to stay and began to take on jobs killing any horde he could. Konowa became a mercenary and he was good. He made himself a name among the seedy side of the Alliance. He was the go to man now.

Years passed. Konowa had become such a hard man that if he ran into one of his old friends, they did not even know it was him. The joy and love in his eyes were replaced with death. He had managed to find the troll’s family, neatly settled in a small town south of Orgrimmar. He did exactly as he said he would. The slow deaths of the troll’s wife and children did not bring Konowa any comfort or peace. He felt nothing when it was done. Just another troll family dead. A few less soldiers for the Horde.

One afternoon, Konowa heard about an offer that he couldn't pass up. Head to Northrend with Prince Arthas in search of Mal’ganis. The amount for a 6-month trip into Northrend was too good to pass up. He gathered what he might need and headed to Stormwind Harbor to sign up. In a day, he was on his way north.

When Arthas betrayed his men on the shores south of Wintergarde Keep, Konowa was among the ones that felt that bitter pain. As Konowa laid breathing heavily on the ground, Arthas stepped over him. Konowa grabbed his leg. “Why…” he said hoarsely. “Why would you betray your own men?”

Arthas looked down at the dying Konowa, “The Scourge must be stopped. At all cost.” Konowa’s sight began to get hazy. He could feel his lungs filling with his own blood. Konowa died with a soft cough, alone on the shores of Northrend.

The darkness was all around him. It was not a comforting darkness, nor was it a terrifying one. It was just there. He was just there. He felt something pulling him forcing him out of the darkness. A violent hand scratching and pulling him down. It was cold fingers digging into his soul. A pestilence creeping into the wounds. Blood dripping into the darkness.

Konowa awoke in a dark ziggurat chained to a cold stone table. He felt the cold but it did not bother him. He tried to look around but his sight was still blurry. In the distance, he could hear a cold voice calling orders.

Konowa was released from the bindings and was given some clothes to put on. His robes hung loosely on him. He then was summoned by his new master. Konowa knelt before the Lich King. As the Lich King spoke, Konowa could hear his voice in his head. His every command was a pleasure to comply with.

Time passed and the Death Knights won their freedom from the Lich King. Bringing Konowa’s own voice back into his head. Konowa wondered around the lands trying to find a way to fit in. He remembered little of his time before his death. He eventually found a hovel with a few mercenaries in it. He talked to them and found a place with them. Though they let him in, they were weary of him. They knew too, the atrocities that the Lich King and his Death Knights had done.

Soon after joining them, he began to remember his past life. The way he used to kill. He remembered the joy he felt when he would remove the head of an orc. He soon found that he was even better as a Death Knight than he was when he was alive. He found he enjoyed it more.

One day he was ridding hard toward a small Horde village he happened upon a beautiful woman walking along the road. She had her long white hair falling around her shoulders. She walked as if she feared nothing. He looked down at her as he rode by; she smiled at him. Her smile was beautiful and sincere. He was unprepared for a smile like this. As he turned to look at her behind him, a low branch caught him and he crashed to the ground.

The woman ran over to him quietly laughing. “Are you OK?” she said as she reached down to help him up. “That was quite the fall you had.”

“I’m fine.” Konowa said as he picked himself up. He was angry with himself but he was also embarrassed. He turned to look at her. Her eyes were shinning with a radiance he hadn't seen in a very long time. He tried to speak but he could not find the words. He opened his mouth to speak several times but every time he said nothing.

“I’m Calypsio, nice to meet you,” she said smiling at him.

“I’m Konowa.”

Konowa and Calypsio in Winterspring.

What follows is a different story. What follows is not the story of Konowa anymore, but of Konowa and Calypsio. And that story, my friends, is for another time.