Mchughs WoW story(No bad spellings:))

[mchugh]

Chapter One

He was, as one would say, a hopeless romantic. He was also, as one would say, lost to the darkness that comes to one with such an obsession. Here is his story.

His name was Sven. No last name. He had been found in his dead mother’s arms somewhere in Elwynn Forest when only a few weeks old. The couple who found him took him and the corpse of his mother to Stormwind, where a doctor looked at both of them. The mother had, apparently, died of completely unknown causes. She seemed to have been in completely good health before death, no diseases, poisoning, hunger, or anything of the sort. The only thing that could have possibly been linked to her death was the strange marking on her forehead that appeared to have been burned into it. The letter N backed by a set of wings.

The body had been turned over to the high priests of the city to inspect for dark magic, and they found it, in rather alarming quantities. She was presumed to be a witch, and the corpse was incinerated, the ashes sealed in an urn of holy water and buried in the darkest depths of the catacombs hundreds of feet below the church, never to be mentioned again.

The boy also had traces of dark magic within him. Traces that, with a bit of religious working, could be removed. The couple who had found him took him as their child, and raised him as lovingly as they would one of their own, wanting to help purge him of his unknown past and make him into a grand citizen of their fair city.

At the age of approximately seven, his tutor had come to his home to find his parents both dead, the same mark on their foreheads, and him passed out on the floor next to them, tears running down his face.

The tutor had immediately gone to the church, and the boy was deemed cursed. Bringing him at once back to them, the priests of Stormwind tested him for dark magic again, and found that the traces from birth had grown slightly stronger, and the corpses of his foster parents were completely engulfed in the same magic that had been found on his mother. They were also burned and buried.

So, in deep worry and concern for the future of the boy, he had been placed under care of the cathedral, and exorcisms were performed on him several times a day, trying to cleanse him of the magic which had tainted him since birth. He was brought up there, for a time, and exposed completely to the life of the just and holy.

Finally, five and a half years later, he had been released, sent to an orphanage at an age of almost thirteen.

In his confinement at the church, he had only one thing that really interested him. Books. He had developed an intelligence that was almost obscene for one so young, having completely mastered his native tongue, being fairly proficient in three other languages, and knowing more than every single other child within three years of his age, and a majority of the church-folk as well.

The cost of such learning, however, was complete ineptitude in social aspects of one his age. He was put into public school knowing no one but those who regularly attended church, and even those people were just mere acquaintances. He also had gone through puberty at an extremely early age, and was now mostly developed in everything but facial hair. And, of course, everyone knew of his curse. That everyone close to him had died. It had been kept secret, of course, but as with all secrets, it was known by more people than information that wasn’t secret. These factors had set him apart from the others at his school, so he spent two years with virtually no friends, nobody to talk to, nobody to share ideas or interests with, no hope for his future. But he had books.

Even after leaving the church, his taste for literature had remained, and he returned to the church every day after being released from school, sometimes even in the morning before it, to delve into a book, and get lost within its pages. Quite a few times he had gotten so absorbed in a book that he lost track of time, and didn’t return to the orphanage or school until long after he was supposed to. He was never scorned, however, out of fear for what he may do. He understood this, and sometimes even abused it to stay out late or get away with other things that others would not be able to. Nothing bad, for he saw himself as a good child, but still that nonetheless. Other children at the orphanage saw this lack of punishment as favoritism, which added another reason for their growing resentment and dislike of him. Because of this, he avoided people in general and had no interest in them.

Until, however, the beginning of his third year of public school, not long before he supposedly turned fifteen. Looking back at the events which happened then, it could have been possible to completely prevent everything that happened to him. But that would have required someone knowing, or caring, about him and his thoughts, and that was not the case.

A girl had entered his thoughts.

Her family had just moved to Stormwind, for one reason or another, and she had started attending his school. Something about her had taken his notice. He didn’t know what, or why, but it had.

It was possibly that she had been the first person his age to actually engage him in conversation, because she had not known anything of his past or “curse”.

It had been a calm day in late summer. He was walking down the street, going to a store he had recently heard about that sold interesting books. He went to turn a corner, and she barreled into him.

She was, in his eyes, amazing. Beautiful, cheerful, a smile that could break any heart. He had fallen for her at first sight, and it was because of this that many things would happen later down the road. A delayed domino effect, so to speak.

He immediately jumped up, lent a hand to her to help her up, and apologized for the collision. She thanked him, and apologized as well. Her name was Margaret, she said.

She asked him if he knew the city, and he began giving her a tour of it, pointing out all the places he knew, where the stores were, where the school was, things like that. They engaged in all sorts of conversation, something which was terribly awkward for him, which she found funny. She was, to all intents and purposes, his first friend, and vice-versa.

Of course, all great things must come to an end, and she returned home, both of them hoping to see eachother again. Bidding farewell to her, he returned to his original course to the bookshop, only to find it was past closing hour. Shrugging, he walked home, his mind filled with thoughts of Margaret.

She was, in his eyes, amazing. Beautiful, cheerful, a smile that could break any heart. He had fallen for her at first sight, and it was because of this that many things would happen later down the road. A delayed domino effect, so to speak.

An effect which would be catastrophic for everyone, but no one so much as Sven himself.

[matswurld]

Did you write this or was it something i missed in the game (Sven on the banks of the river in Duskwood) If you did man this is GREAT! You have a real talent for taking something given to you and imagining a story. If not still +rep ITS GREAT!

[mchugh]

i write it all, But i got help frome my school Teacher, he fixed all the wrong spellings, As i am Stupid, And can not spell for crap:P The only thing i can do good, Without writeing, Is Working with Computers, And Art So when i go to collage, Im going to try get a better Skill in Spellings and reading, And allso Get better skill in Computers, And art lol then i will move to USA and go to Uni there

[matswurld]

Well I gotta "Spread some rep before i can rep you" last repped you when u helped with my emu so...remind me!

[wowaddikt]

awesome writing.....


craving chapter 2 now... u have me hooked