Book that I write in: of Jaws and Such

Last I left you, I was disappointed that my first hard-earned revelation about my life was that I was a florist. I had begun working on engineering a prosthetic jaw for my benefactor in unlife: Vaalis – who urged me to go to the Sepulchre in Silverpine Forest and aid the Forsaken I found there. I know I should have just gone there and found work to do right away, and that was my intention, but it turns out a jaw is a complicated thing to recreate, so my travel plans were delayed. Think about it, if you're reading this then you probably have a jaw, run your hand along the underside of it and feel with your fingers as you open and close it. See? Not so simple to make from raw non-organic materials.

Want to know something interesting? There are only two bones in the jaw (not counting the teeth). I learned those bones were called the Maxilla and the Mandible, which doesn't relate to my story, I just like how they sound. You don't expect bones to have pleasant sounding names, or interesting ones, but I'm very interested in them now that I can see my own bones regularly.

Anyways, I found out all this after I killed a stray Scarlet in the Glades and took his jaw to examine.

I wonder when the surrealism of being Forsaken will wear off. I was a florist, yet I just penned in my journal about how I killed a man (a zealous, light-loving piece of shit, but still a man) and pried the jaw off his corpse so I could look at it later and thought little of either event. Not to mention no one batted an eye at me as I came down the elevator into the Undercity clutching blood covered jaw in my hands. Figures.

After I had finished examining my purloined jaw I sat down at my workbench and drew up some schematics for my fake one. From schematics I progressed into prototypes; I made several as I didn't have measurements for Vaalis's head. Soon copper and tin hollow half mouths lined my workspace in the Rouges Quarter. I would often hum to myself and make strange noises as I worked, trying to figure out how Vaalis was able to speak half as well as he did without a jaw. I didn't discover the answer until two days into my work, but I realized he must have been vibrating his tongue against the roof of his mouth to make sounds. It was fascinating! I would relax my lips and jaw and try to form whole words, which was a challenge. Go on, try it now if you'd like. I found certain sounds impossible to make without the aid of my lips , like anything with a “Q”... I tried over and over again to say the word “quality” with my jaw and lips relaxed but it couldn't be done. I could, however, say “koo-ality” which was close enough to be recognized when the word was used in context. Some of my most advanced decomposition is on my jaw and mouth, so I made careful note of how this done, just in case those areas worsened.

I was quite proud of myself for having figured out Vaalis's trick, it was very hard to accomplish though, he must have been quite practised. I was quickly realizing how important adaptability is for Forsaken and I no longer just considered myself grateful to Vaalis, I also respected him.

I packed up my fake jaws and walked down to the Brill stables to purchase a mount, then made my way to Silverpine. I did not name my skeletal horse, but I remember desperately wanting to know what colour it was. Sadly, my embarrassment at having to ask the stable master outweighed my curiosity. Learning to ride was easy, thankfully, nearly everything else since coming out of the grave had been a struggle. I wonder if it was simple for me because the undead steeds Forsaken use have no spirit to break, and follow their riders commands flawlessly as a result.

I'm very detail oriented, so it pains me to gloss over my time in Silverpine, but it was not particularly memorable. I killed many Gnolls and Worgen. I learned Fenris Isle was overrun, and was mildly surprised though I have no idea why that was my reaction.

One day as I crested the steep hill leading up to the Sepulchre to empty my bags and report in, I saw Vaalis standing amongst the tombstones. As a Forsaken, my feelings are muted; something I will elaborate on later. No longer does my chest swell with emotion as it did in life, so I don't think I ever truly 'feel' happy. But I vividly remember what being happy was like, and react accordingly out of a lifetime of habit before I can think about it. I wonder if compassionate Forsaken are really just the ones who remember living the best, but that's an entry for another day. The point is that when I saw Vaalis I vividly remembered how nice it was to have someone waiting to see you, and my rotted mouth broke into a wide smile as I snapped the reigns on my skeletal horse and cantered towards him.

“Gen-ahh-vee” He hissed at me, and now that I was looking for it, I saw his tongue vibrate against the roof of his mouth to form the sounds that made my name. I dismounted, and held up a hand to politely ask him to let me talk first. “Vaalis” I spoke, “Thank-you for what you've done for me, before you speak though, I want to give you a gift. Follow me.” I lead him to a quiet area near several grave markers and took my fake jaws out from my bags one by one. I lined the metal jaws across the tombstones and then pulled out my small iron toolbox, retrieving my screwdriver and screws from within. Vaalis's face light up when he saw my prototypes, and I suggested we try a few on. He responded with a series of eager nods that were so vigorous his tongue flapped around like a flag in the wind. Some of my creations were comically oversized, and others too small, but the large-ish tin jaw I had made early on fit like a glove. I warned Vaalis I was going to screw the jaw directly into his masseter muscle (it connects the cheekbone and the jaw) under his skin, and thanks to another dead scarlet I knew it was was a very strong muscle for it's size. “You might feel a slight pinch” I told him as I took the screw driver to the side of his face and began to work. To his credit, Vaalis didn't even flinch and when I switched to the other side of his face he even held the jaw in place for my while I worked.

I anxiously cleaned the smudges off his jaw with a spare bit of wool and opened and closed it manually with my hands a few times to rest the resistance. I stepped back from Vaalis then, looking at him anxiously. “How does it feel...?” I asked tentatively, clicking the bones of my fingertips together. He experimented, rolling his tongue around in the jaw and making a few intelligible sounds. Finally, he spoke in a deep voice. I can't describe Vaalis's voice well, but it sounds like molasses dripping down a wall would. It's thick and dark, if that makes any sense. “Excellllent... A perfect fit” he replied, and gave me a grin that looked lopsided, his top lip curling upwards. I instructed him to rise the jaw with fresh water once a day, and while he told me fresh water tasted horrible to him, he would do so if it meant maintaining his gift.

We sat in the grass of the Sepulchre, leaning against the tombstones and talking. Being in the Undercity for a few weeks and training and answered many of the questions I had about the Forsaken, and I was more curious about Vaalis himself. He told me that he was a Death Knight and answered my queries about his impressive looking runeblade, and how he forged the runes on it. I was surprised to notice he was a big talker, and enjoyed over-describing things with lots of adjectives, perhaps a silver jaw would have been more fitting. I listened intently as he told me what Acherus - the Ebon Hold - was like, his elaborate descriptions painting a vivid mental picture for me. When I asked him why he helped me out of my grave and sent me the fine weapons and armour he dismissed my questions with a wave of his hand and told me it wasn't the right time for me to know. I was anxious to press the issue, but held my tongue; I really didn't want to come across as ungrateful. He also expanded on what the Orc guard I encountered had mentioned, the Wrathgate. I was shocked to learn that our Queen had been tricked, and I became hopelessly absorbed as Vaalis broke in his new jaw telling me about the political situations of Northrend effecting the Forsaken.

Vaalis must have noticed how I would fidget and find the occasional worm in my corpse while I listened, when he finished speaking and rose he looked down at me and said: “It's late, little worm.” I found the nickname fitting beyond the literal explanation (which is that I have worms). After all, he first meet me when I was wiggling out of the earth. I smiled and stood as well, the question of when we could speak again already forming in my throat. He held up a hand to stall me, and gave me detailed instructions on where to board a Zeppelin in Tirisfal Glades that would take me to a jungle at the Southern tip of the Eastern Kingdoms. I was to meet him there, and before I could ask another question he summoned a fierce looking steed from the earth and rode off. I watched him until he was a dot on the horizon to me, then packed my bags and went to mount my skeletal horse.

The zeppelin trip was long and uneventful, I spent it above decks looking over the side of the vessel and trying to engage the disgruntled Goblin crew in conversation; when I couldn't do that I was studying the Orcish language from books. After Vaalis explained why the guards in the Undercity were Orcs (Kor'kron Guard, he called them) I was determined to speak the language better. I considered all the Vaalis had told me carefully, and I realized I was deeply disturbed by the notion of the Forsaken being so distrusted that the Warchief placed our city under marshal law. I was nearly knocked off my feet with the other realization that followed: I was starting to identify very strongly with the Forsaken as my people. I looked down at my rotted hands and scoffed; well what was I going to do? Consider myself human? That part of my existence was over, and the fact that so much of that time is lost to me probably made considering myself a part of the Forsaken easier, I'm sure.

After the zeppelin made it's berth I looked around from the tower and was relieved to see Vaalis waiting for me, already on his mount. I made a mental note to ask him later if he had named his steed as I had thought of naming my own. He was painfully easy to spot even from up top in the tower: a corpse glowing with Scourge energies atop a equally dead glowing mount; with a backdrop of lush plants and ocean. I squinted as best I could with no eyes, where those... skulls hanging off the saddle? I shook my head; that was visual overkill. The long journey made me anxious to move around, so I vaulted from the top of the tower in hopes of landing beside Vaalis and impressing him. Instead I landed awkwardly with a spray of sand, then gave Vaalis a sheepish wave. Looking at him, I realized I had left my skeletal horse stabled in Brill and groaned inwardly.

Vaalis didn't seem to care though, he looked down at me and said: “We're going to teach you how to eat, little worm.” And, in typical Vaalis fashion took off on his mount before I could even ask how or why. He rode out past the camp and onto the ocean, a path of ice forming under his mount and supporting the weight of rider and steed over the water. I saw the trail of frost was rapidly dissolving behind him so I sprinted after Vaalis and onto the open water. I called out to him as I ran, trying to explain I didn't have to eat and even if I did I was sure I could figure it out on my own without him having to drag me out to a jungle and then across the ocean. Of course it was only a matter of time between my sprinting, yelling, and you know -ice- that I slipped on the path. What I'm ashamed to pen is that I cracked my head against the frost and fell into the water. Dazed, I looked at the sprawling sea floor below me, while briefly noting how buoyant I was. Then, as quickly as I had fallen into the water, I was lifted out. Vaalis had me by my cape and dragged me back onto the narrow strip of ice. The sea water had filled my empty eye sockets and it poured down my face as I sputtered, trying to apologize to him for falling in.

“You're freezing to the ice. Quit apologizing little worm. I erred in assuming you would keep up with me, I do not remember what it is like to have fresh soil clinging to my bones as you do.” He lifted me up by the forearm and placed me on his mount, I rode in front. Now, I know riding along the coast on a path of ice, on an impossibly fast charger sounds incredible and exhilarating. It is, for the first few minutes. Then you realize the landscape is unchanging and you have no idea where you're going or how it relates to eating; then you start to fidget with the saddle horn and wonder what you're going to say when you're offered food you'll probably have to decline since you don't have a working digestive system anymore. I was deeply worried Vaalis would think I was being rude. The journey was long and I'm getting bored just remembering it, I'll write about it another time.

"Book that I Write in" is the journal of Genavie, a Forsaken Deathstalker. The story is ongoing and based off of actual roleplay done with the character on Wyrmrest Accord - US. The first entry can be found here.