Argent Defeat


Bonus edit I did of the Whitemane image from yesterday. Featuring Argent Confessor Paletress in a similar situation with the Scourge during the events of Wrath. Though she’s not taking it quite as well.


The year is 2009 and the Argent Tournament is well under way in Icecrown. Preparations for the Siege on Icecrown Citadel looks promising, but disaster has struck as one of the beloved champions of the Argent Crusade has been captured.

It had all happened so quickly, one moment Paletress had been in her personal tent helping a young handsome crusader “confess” his sins and the next she was here. Bound and stripped, her arms hoisted above her head in a place that reeked of death and emanated a powerful unholy aura. It was unmistakably deep within Icecrown Citadel that she had been taken, her ocean blue eyes gazed through the bars of her cage at the various zombies, ghouls and death knights going about their tasks.

Yet it was worse than that, she spied the reanimated corpse of the very same young crusader she had been so vigorously working a confession out of on her bed what felt like moments ago. His features were pale, his eyes illuminated blue and his form clad in the unmistakable saronite armor of the Death Knights. Seemingly she had been here longer than she realized.

She did the only thing she could think to do in such a place. She began to whisper a prayer to the light, but was interruped by a loud terrifying voice echoing throughout her mind. It took a moment for her to realize who the voice belonged to, the sudden shock and volume of it startling as well as the accompanying pain of it forcing it’s way into her mind. This could only be the voice of the Lich King himself.

“Argent Confessor Paletress, you’ve been a bastion of hope to your fellow crusaders and a thorn in the side of my loyal servants for far too long. You will make a great necromancer of the scourge or you will die in this cage.”

The voice said with no small amount of judgement and gravitas as it penetrated her thoughts.

“It would be unfair to deny my subjects their revenge for the many allies you’ve taken from them and the falsehoods of the light you’ve preached, Confessor. You will indeed join their ranks but not before your body lies broken, defeated and ripe with the scent of fear.”

The voice of the Lich King then faded, leaving behind a headache that felt not too different from the morning after a Dwarven tavern crawl. While the voice had gone, it took her a moment to recuperate from such power pressing on the edges of her mind so dominantly and viciously.

She opened her eyes and turned her gaze upward towards the cage in front of her, when her blurred vision corrected it self, she let out a shocked gasp at the sight of several Death Knights and ghouls gathered around her cage. Even the young crusader from before was at the front of the pack, his pale cock bared and the fresh coagulated scar of his slit throat fully visible to her. The door to the cage opened and all began to move inside to join the Argent Confessor, who reacted in horror from the realization of their intent.

“B-back you vile creatures! The light protects me! The light protects me!”
She cried out as their long shadows blocked out the light around her, enveloping her in the cold grasp of death.