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[personal profile] fic_of_fork
Word Count: 570
Summary:  Echoes of the past spill into the present, when the Doctor crash lands on a planet he's never visited. A crossover with the Warcraft universe in World of Warcraft.  Thanks to [ profile] zurcherart , [ profile] persiflage_1 ,  the Hoopy Frood, and [ profile] mtemplar_fic for the betas!
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Characters: Tenth Doctor
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, General
Author's Note:  Spoilers for the Death Knight quest chain in "Wrath of the Lich King." Mograine's quotes come from the in-game dialogue in the Death Knight quest chain.
Disclaimer:  I don't own Doctor Who, Torchwood, Bernice Summerfield, or any of its characters, and I'm receiving no profit from this beyond the joy of writing.  While I raid with a level 80 warlock, I don't own World of Warcraft, either.

She was once a hero, standing bravely against the darkness in the forces of the Alliance, a warrior of the Argent Dawn. She had purchased the world another day with her very life, but all that anger and bitterness she held against the darkness would not die so easily. Her thirst for vengeance only grew, as her blood seeped into the soil of the Eastern Plaguelands. In death, she heard the call of another, seductive in his promise of power and victory. She could not resist his promise of a dark rebirth, of power beyond imagining.

Necromancers had reanimated her body, but it was her will that separated her from just another ghoul. The Lich King's voice in her mind was soft and sensuous, and he showed her how her compatriots had left her to rot among the diseased lands of the Plaguewood, just outside of the ruined city of Stratholme. He promised her vengeance and more power than she had ever had during her life. So when she heard the Lich King's call, she pledged him fealty with her soul.

Corrupted and twisted, she now wielded the might of blood, frost, and unholy runes. Clad in dark saronite armor that absorbed the light around it and twisted it into an unearthly glow, she was one of the chosen ones in the Lich King's service: she was a Death Knight.

Her steed–one of Acherus's Deathchargers as much undead wraith as she was–pranced underneath her, as they waited for the battle to begin. All around them swarms of ghouls gibbered and huddled, as gigantic constructs out of dead bodies lumbered around them, all getting into place. She calmed her horse, not wanting to lose face in front of the other Death Knights and especially Darion Mograine, himself, the Highlord of Acherus, the leader of the Death Knights.

“Soldiers of the Scourge, death knights of Acherus, minions of the darkness, hear the call of the Highlord!” Mograine yelled out to the assembled army. “The skies turn red with the blood of the fallen. The Lich King watches over us, minions. Leave only ashes and misery in your destructive wake!”

Giddy, she realized that she was under Highlord Darion Mograine's banner. Clearly her actions at New Avalon and Hearthglen had distinguished her. With a signal from Mograine they charged down the hill and towards the wooden frame chapel. The thundering hooves of the Death Knight's Deathchargers combined with the stomp of the constructs lumbering behind them. She unsheathed her sword, and the runes on it blazed. With a deafening crash, the battle exploded all around them as arcane and holy magics clashed with the dark arts wielded by the Death Knights.

Without much effort, they routed the paladins back to the chapel, but–always by Mograine's side–she watched him falter. It was as if his sword arm refused to obey his body. The Highlord demanded another blade, but he was unable to let go of the sword he carried. Before any of the Lich King's army knew what had happened, the forces of the Argent Dawn had corralled them into a group.

She watched as Mograine knelt in submission to the paladin, Tirion Fordring, the leader of the army at the Light's Hope Chapel where they had just fought. The next thing she knew, her world exploded in light. Tirion turned to her and called her name. She was free.
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