Duskwood.
This is the third part of the series about Duskwood and the people living there. I suggest reading the previous articles, but hey, you do you!
Today's article is about Raven Hill.
Like most of these articles about Duskwood then it of course started with finding a guide to take me to Raven Hill, and hopefully somewhat safe. This time it was a rather gloomy woman who dabbles in the darker arts of magic. I was obviously not in a position to complain since she was the only one offering to escort me on the trip to the cemetery. On the way there she told me the story of Mor'Ladim, formerly known as Morgan Ladimore, a name, once synonymous with valour and nobility, but now evokes an eerie resonance in Duskwood, a land that has witnessed its fair share of darkness.
Long before the shroud of gloom descended upon the tranquil realms, Mor'Ladim was known as Morgan Ladimore, a gallant and righteous knight. His purpose in life was noble, to champion the cause of the downtrodden, protect the innocent, and ease the burdens of the afflicted. Standard knight stuff. United in love with a young maiden named Lys at the tender age of eighteen, his life seemed like a fairy tale, a promise of enduring happiness.
Yet, fate had other plans for Morgan. When the shadow of war stretched its ominous fingers across the land of Lordaeron, he answered the call to arms, marching alongside the renowned Uther the Lightbringer. The battlefields witnessed his unwavering dedication, and as he fought valiantly, but the horrors of war etched themselves into his very soul.
When the dust of battle finally settled, Morgan returned to a home and found his once proud house lay in ruins. Morgan then embarked on a harrowing journey to seek his beloved family. The chilling revelation awaited him in the graveyard. His wife and three children lay beneath the sombre soil. The grave actually only held two of his children, a priest lied to him - or simple did not know better.
Grief's torrent transformed into an inferno of rage. Stripped of sanity, Morgan's blade became a vessel for his anguish, mercilessly cleaving through cemetery attendants who dared intervene. The aftermath was a tableau of carnage and tragedy. The once-noble knight stood amidst the fallen, bloodstained and broken.
In a moment of crushing realization, the weight of his deeds bore down on his tormented soul. In a desolate act, he drew a blade against himself, severing the final tethers of his existence.
However, the tale did not end there. The veil between life and death proved thin in the face of unquenchable grief. Days later, his grave lay violated, and his body was gone. Mor'Ladim, a phantom of his former self, arose from the earth, neither wholly living nor truly dead. The tracts of land he once defended now bore witness to his morose march, as he spilled the blood of citizens and hapless adventurers alike.
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As we now approached Raven Hill we where greeted by the abandoned town and the ruined houses which today is more of a camp inhabited by Gilnean Worgens and other researches trying to find a cure for the affliction, and what relation there is between the Gilnean affliction, and the feral Worgens inhabiting Duskwood. We didn't stay long but I did catch glimpses of cages and instruments I dread will make an appearance in future nightmares of mine.
As we left the ruined town and ventured north towards the cemetery my guide told me there is rumours about a cult using the ruined town as a base, but when I asked her if we could look around some more and talk to some of them, she insisted crypts, tombs and catacombs would be far more fun... Odd woman.
Anyway, we proceeded north, leaving the ruined town behind us and approaching the gates to the cemetery my guide told me another myth - this time the legend of Morbent Fel.
In the somber depths of Duskwood's Raven Hill Cemetery, a dark figure cast a sinister veil over the land. Morbent Fel, a human necromancer of formidable power, held sway over the realm of the undead from the eerie sanctuary of his home atop the Forlorn Rowe. A fortress of malevolent magic and guarded by his loyal undead minions, Morbent was a formidable adversary, an enigmatic ally of the enigmatic Dark Riders.
Within the shadowed embrace of his necrotic dominion, Morbent's sinister influence extended across Duskwood, raising the dead and instilling fear in the hearts of all who dared cross his path. His mastery over the dark arts was matched only by the arcane barrier that cocooned him, thwarting attempts on his life. Brave souls who sought to challenge him found their weapons impotent against his shield, a testament to his command over necromantic forces. He was eventually defeated (some claim twice) and with his demise, the Torch of Holy Flame, a symbol of his reign, stood sentinel outside his abode.
The Torch is tended by Sarah Ladimore, yes, the sole survivor of Mor'Ladim's family and just shows that sometimes life, death and what is in between, is often more connected in Duskwood than what you may think.
Whispers linger in the air, for despite his demise, the phylactery of the lich was never found. The possibility of Morbent's return, a chilling spectre, stands as a reminder that even in death, his dark legacy may yet cast its shadow upon the realm of the living.
My guide only allowed me a quick glimpse into the cemetery, but it was enough to see the place is filled with all kinds of undead, as well as local corrupted wildlife. Whatever the tombs and crypts holds of secrets - I won't be the one to find out. The contrast between this place, and the grove is about as stark as between night and day, life and death, nature and decay, but I suppose, that is exactly what Duskwood is. Right between two opposites, always in the dusk.