The Lament of Farmhand Geist: The time when Geist almost died


Hello, friends. It’s me again, Tim. The Geist. Lamenting in the night. I will never forget what happened the day Master brought me home – home to her home, that is. The thing I just told you about?

That’s how it happened. That’s how I scared my Master into never ever again dare to talk to Master. Why … Master even hid behind a curtain, when Master and me came by. Did you know she grew up in Embari?

I certainly did not!

It’s all for the better, you know. Things would be complicated if you got to know your younger self. Especially when you’re old enough to be dead. Master told me that, a bit later, as the peons worked hard to bring our home into order. Our … garrison. Our home. My home … because it’s my Masters home. Though it’s not my real home. Master tried to set me free and that didn’t work. So, friends:

Let me tell you about the time I almost died.

I told you about how we left Halfhill,

I’m sure. Oh yesss … Yesss … I’m ssure … and please forgive my hissing. It’s safer that way. These last few weeks on my masters homeworld has taught me a valuable lessson: Sometimes it’s better to be a Monster. I will tell you why in just a moment, but first – How I Died.

I am Scourge. You need to keep this in mind. I was created in Naxxramas by one or another of Kel’Thuzads minions. I have my “birth certificate”.

In a way my home is in Dragonblight. But honestly – my “father” was not Kel. My Creator was Arthas. So you see my home is in Icecrown. Now … that’s not true at all, of course. My Scourge home is in Icecrown. but my Home is in Teldrassil, and Elwynn, and Dun Morogh, and Durotar, and Mulgore (a joint in my elbow is tauren), and Lordaeron … I am a person of many persons.

I am Legion.

Bringing me home is troublesome. Master would have to dismantle me. Master on’t want to dismantle me. Truly, I don’t want that either – because that would be, well … Death.

A not so funny fact about us Scourge: We don’t want to die. Nothing wants to die. Remember that, next time you go out killing brigand gnolls for the linen cloth.

We spent some time in Stormwind. We decided to play it sae. The Alliance might be in an alliance of conveniance with the Knights of the Ebon Blade, that doesn’t mean we’re welcome to their turf. So Master hid me in a cellar. It’s easy enough to blend into the crowd as a more than usual pale and cold draenei. It’s something completely different if a geist trails behind you, especially one who has never seen a spice market (the smells drove my nose insane!).

People of Stormwind – and yes, their king has said that we stand as one – tend to … flee. Simple as that. Flee – an throw bananas. Funny that. The pandaren of Halfhill was more welcoming to a geist than humans. But that’s how things are, I guess. I once ventured out on the street and the city guard came running. I yelled “Hands up don’t shoot!” but they didn’t listen. A few hundred stitchessorted me out (later on, Master had words with the guards; I don’t think they’ll be able to walk properly ever again).

When Master had some free time from important things like meeting the king or whatnot, she brooded. She just sat there, staring at the wall. I spied on her, I’m sure she knew but she said nothing about it. Every once so often she would come down into the cellar of the Slaughtered Lamb (an inn our adopted human, Sharenne, told us about; “The Lamb can keep a secret”). Then Master would just stared at me. In silence. It was quite unnerving, to tell you the truth, Then oen day, after a few weeks, she said:

“I’m gonna set you free, Tim.”
“But I am free,” I said.
“No, you’re not.” she sighed. “Look, you’re not competent enough to understand what freedom is. You were created to be a slave – you are a slave!”

“But … “I said, but she turned her back on me and left. That made me fear her. She had always listened to me. Well, most of the time. I was afraid. I dared not speak. She told me to get ready for a trip and so I did. What else could I do? I was alone in a city that despised me. If I was to survive … well then!

We traveled in silence. We didn’t speak to each other. Not a single word for weeks on end. I trailed behind her wherever she went and then, weeks later, we stood on a cliff overlooking Icecrown and Master said:

“Go, geist. Go. Those things down there … They’re your people. Go home. I don’t need you anymore.”
“Master don’t … need me?” I said.
“I don’t. Things have changed. Look, it’s complicated, but … I can’t have you around no more. I’m married to the frost. There’s no room for a geist where frost is present.”
“But ..!”
“Go! Take a hike! Fuck off, monster!”

Masters angry words didn’t scare me. It’s simple, it is: Love is simple. If you love someone, you don’t abandon them. So, I honestly don’t know where I got the courage, but I said:

“You don’t love me?”
“I can’t love,” Master said.

I shouldn’t have said the thing I said, but I said it. I said:

“You love Menea.”

For a few seconds her eyes pierced me with a hateful glance. I thought she would use the bullwhip, like that time in Zul’Drak. Instead she sighed and looked out across the frozen wastes and mumbled:

“This is the kingdom of the Scourge, only the dead may enter.”

I dared not say it but I did. I covered in fear in front of her and whispered:

“You are not dead, Master. You are just not alive. Just as us. As me.” I shot a glance across Icecrown, I heard the howling of ghouls out there, all of them praising their new master. The cold, burning, secret master … because there must always be a lich king. “Zavannah, lissen!” I used Masters name. I never do that unless it’s something very important. “Those … things! They’re not my people. They are … automatons.” I stared at her. “You, Master.” I stood up and grabbed her by her collar. “You made me who I am!” I stared my single eye into Masters deadwhite shine. “YOU GAVE ME A LIFE!!!”

My shriek echoed across the mountains. It shook the snow off forgotten peaks. It broke the spell of some Scourge but without a master they soon became confused. Like wild animals in panic those wretched creatures died in a battle they could not win, surrounded by mindless undead listening to a call of a master who just wanted balance.

Master asked me a simple question:
“You are free, geist. Why do you insist on following me?”
I said: “Because I am free!”
“Then go and be free!”

“I will go with you … ” I smiled, even though it didn’t show through my leather mask. “Zavvie.”

So Master just sighed and shrugged, raising her hands halfway in a ‘what can you do, eh?’-gesture. Then we were off, going home. To Draenor and the garrison (I have made a friend there, a cat … catman … yes; anyway, I will tell you about Leo some other time).

Oh … you wonder how I almost died? Why, that’s simple, friends:

Without freedom – you are already dead.


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