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| - 9/28/08 I arrived to the Command Center to find a mysterious man standing near my goal: the coffee machine. He had a hood that covered his whole face. Hoods, masks, helmets and the heads of large creatures were not uncommon in Stormwind. So many had a reason to hide their faces: disfiguring accidents, plain ugliness, and a simple desire to seem more interesting than they would normally be. “How may I help you, sir”, I asked. “I want to be arrested.” Said the hooded one with a deep echoing voice. I thought that was a clever trick, perhaps a gnomish echoing device under the hood. He wanted to be arrested. I am always suspicious of any one that walks in on their own to the Command Center asking to be arrested. They normally turn out to be encyclopedia salesmen, and I already had five sets. “Why?” “I killed those people at Mirror Lake” I did not believe his claim. Kathetia Silverwing had already confessed the week prior to those murders and her bare feet matched the footprints we had found at the murder scene. And she had been found covered in blood from head to toe the night of the murders. I told the hooded man that I did not believe him. He went on to relate how he murdered his whole family. He spoke with an affectation that only a rancid noble could muster; only someone who’s great grandfather’s great grandfather had already oppressed peasants as a form of sport. “My name is Thermidor DeRotchschild Thermidorus.” “You killed your whole family?” “And the dog as well.” “I would like to experience what it’s like to be executed.” His name confirmed his blue-blooded background. I had no choice but to arrest him, not because he was overly aristocratic, but because he was either dangerously insane or a murderer with no conscience. Killing the family dog was an act too heinous to comprehend. “How could you kill the family dog? How could you do such a thing?” I asked horrified. “It was a poodle. Need I say more?” I escorted him to the jail cell and told him he would be held there until I could get someone to probe his mind to confirm whether any of what he claimed was true. The next day he was examined by two skilled mentalists who confirmed that Lord Thermidorus had lied about the Mirror Lake murders, but told the truth regarding murdering his whole aristocratic family. As I was trying to decide what to do with Thermidor, I was informed by one of the guards that Detective DuLoc had gone in to speak with him all by herself. Concerned for her safety, I rushed to the cell. I found her sitting there listening to his story, which was coming from a hooded head which was no longer attached to a neck, but instead was held in Thermidor’s hands! Thermidor had undone the stitching which previously kept the head attached to the rest of his body. “Guards! Bring torches and lantern fuel!” I called for the guards as I unsheathed my sword. The guards burst in and surrounded Thermidor. They each had a torch in hand, and corporal Varistin carried the lantern oil. Thermidor remained seated and calm, or as calm as a being could be while holding its head on its own lap. The ghoul-like creature looked calm and rested despite being dead on his feet. “Hot potato!” Thermidor exclaimed as he tossed his head at Trainee Balaul. Balaul let out a choked yelp as the head bounced off his chest and onto the floor with a sound resembling that of a hollow coconut hitting stone. “Kick it to the back of the room!” I ordered. “Sorry sir, I’m not touching it!” Incredulously, I watched as Trainee Sumey, a member of the fairer sex, simply reached down and picked up the head and took it back to Thermidor’s awaiting hands. Sumey, who was from Lordaeron and a survivor of the plague, had seen enough undeath to become desensitized to it. I was about to order the guards to set him on fire, but Detective Konstia told us to wait and listen to his story to find out how he became an undead. So, Thermidor told us of how he had grown surrounded by wealth and old nobility. He spoke of how he had grown tired of his family’s obsessions with wealth and material things and decided to go on a life of adventure. During his travels, Thermidor met a necromancer who offered him a way to live forever. Interested by the offer, Thermidor agrees to the necromancer’s offer, and before he could react, the necromancer had lopped off his head with a sharp sword. Thermidor regained consciousness, such as it was, to discover the necromancer still in the middle of ritual. Thermidor killed the necromancer, and by doing so, he managed to retain his free will despite being an undead. Thermidor returned to the family keep to tell his father about how the Thermidorus name would not live forever. His father, upon seeing that his son was now an undead, charged to kill him. Thermidor killed his father instead. Then thought that his mother would be terribly upset with him for killing his father, so he killed her. He then thought of how his sister would never forgive him for killing her father and her mother, so he killed her. He then killed the sister’s poodle and went on a murdering spree that would eventually wipe out the whole Thermidorus line. Thermidor thought it a happy end to a crusty, corrupt and lazy aristocratic line. During his story, High Inquisitor Dathan Saldean had arrived. It seems that the Inquisitor and Thermidorus had been old friends. After learning that Thermidorus wanted to be executed, Dathan said that he would kill his undead friend. “Better to be done by the hand of a friend, right?” Thermidor agreed. Dathan cast holy spells upon Thermidor, who then dropped to the ground motionless. I ordered the guards to carry the body to the courtyard and burn it. We placed Thermidor’s body on a pyre, doused in oil and set it on fire. The inquisitor made a short prayer for his old friend. Thermidor’s ashes were later given to Dathan to take to the druid known as Fiha, per Thermidor’s last wish. No sense risking a revenant by denying a last wish. Image:Burningthermidor.jpg
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