Nikolas Meets a Troll, Part I

Okay, kind of a lame title, but I think you'll like this little vignette from Nikolas' time in the Hinterlands (where he trained with the elves):

A soft swish broke the air just behind the arrow that created it, followed by a dull thud as the point met its mark. The arrow pierced the stag's right shoulder, driving the shaft halfway into its body and piercing the heart. Some blood splashed onto the dew-moistened leaves on the ground as the large animal started at sharp pain and immediately took off running.

Nikolas watched it for a moment, trying to figure out in which direction the stag was ultimately going to head, then picked up his pack, slung his bow over his shoulder and walked toward where the buck had stood moments before. He was pleased with his shot, confident it had been enough to mortally wound the animal. But, as usual, he would have to track for some miles before finding, he hoped, the corpse. And that was assuming wolves didn't find it first.

Nikolas found the spot where his arrow had struck- a pool of blood, about the size of his palm, had gathered on the dirt and leaves covering the Hinterlands forest floor. He bent down to examine it and look for a blood trail, when something caught his eye- another pool of blood, a few feet to his left. He looked at it and furrowed his brow- this wasn't from the stag he'd just shot. It was too dark, it was on the wrong side of the body from where the arrow had struck, and it was opposite the direction in which the wounded animal had run.

Nikolas reached out and touched this pool of blood- it was cool to the touch, meaning it was likely a few hours old. He brought his fingers to his nose, breathing in its scent. A sour smell burned his nostrils and he quickly moved his hand away, wiping the blood on the ground and quickly scanning the surrounding trees with his eyes. Troll blood! He knew that scent well from the many forest trolls he had fought and slew here in the Hinterlands. Nikolas rose and drew out his hunting swords, one in each hand, turning his head this way and that, looking for any sign of a trap or ambush. But there were none.

He looked around the forest floor, scanning, searching for….there. Another small puddle of the same dark, sour blood. Drops leading out from the far side of the pool showed the direction in which the wounded troll had gone. Crouching in readiness, all senses alert and on edge, Nikolas began to look around. Imprints on the ground, torn leaves and patches of fur gave him a good idea of what had happened. Two, maybe three wolves had attacked the troll, maybe even caught him off guard, and the troll had struck back. He didn't kill the wolves, not right then at least, but had likely driven them off...yes, the tracks moved off away from the spot where Nikolas now crouched.

Turning his attention back to the blood on the ground, Nikolas scanned the area around him, searching for....there. Another small of blood. Moving over to it, Nikolas looked further along a straight line in front of him, and sure enough, there was a third spot of red. The three points made a rough line, telling Nikolas in which direction the wounded troll had set off. Deciding to track this troll and maybe find it, Nikolas moved off along the imaginary line, moving from blood spot to blood spot.

A shame, he thought as he drew his twin hunting swords, to leave such a strong and healthy buck to other predators, beasts that had no regard other than instinct for the meat. But he had different prey now, more dangerous and unpredictable.

As he moved, Nikolas thought about where he was headed and what he might find. The blood trail led to the south, away from the northern mountain range. Nikolas guessed the troll headed for the small river about two miles from here. That made sense- the water would wash the blood and hide the troll's scent from other potential predators. With luck, he would only find the troll's corpse. Nikolas didn't shy away from battle, not in the least, but he did not often invite it. But he was on patrol this morning, and if he found a troll, his job was to capture or kill it.

It helped that rain had fallen the day before- the ground was soft and the leaves were wet, dampening the noise as Nikolas walked over them. He kept a tight grip on each of his swords, ears listening intently to the forest around him. He had suspected from the moment he first saw the blood that this might be a ruse, a trap set up to catch him or kill him. But for now, there were no indicators but that the troll had been alone.

A quarter mile from the river, Nikolas slowed to almost a snail's pace. He paused after every step, looking, listening, smelling, feeling.  Still nothing alerted him to any possible danger, but until he knew there was none, he would keep his guard up.

Nikolas Leaves His Family, Part II

(Be proud of me- I typed probably two-thirds of this with one hand, on account of my bum wrist)

An hour after leaving his mother’s home, Nikolas had nearly finished packing his belongings. He had scant few things besides that which he needed for his scouting work, so it would only take a knapsack and a couple of satchels to bring what he needed.
He was in the process of packing some spare daggers and arrows when the door to his small cottage practically flew open,
“You’re leaving?”
Nikolas’ sister, Katia, had evidently just come from their mother’s house. He turned to face her and the expected look of shock/frustration on her face.
“Yes,” was his simple reply.
“Why?”
“It shouldn’t be hard to figure out,” he answered.
Katia stared for a moment. “Because of him? Because of Isillien?”
Nikolas scoffed. “Why do you and mother think it’s just because of Isillien? It’s more than that- it’s the whole bloody Scarlet Crusade!”
“But we’re winning! You can’t leave!” The passion in her voice was strong.
“Winning? Is that what you call it?”
“What else is it, then,” she spat back, glaring hard. She had been sharper than Naya in their debates with Nikolas over the Crusade and its ways. “Highlord Mograine is wreaking havoc on the undead near Stratholme, General Abbendis is advancing on the Scourge from Tyr’s Hand, and we’re getting our foothold here in the Western Plaguelands. What more do you want?”
“You really want to ask me that? You’re not winning anything. Yes, you’re gaining ground and bashing the skulls of undead left and right, but at what cost? Killing innocent people, just because they don’t agree with you, is no victory. And I’ve already been through this with Mother, so I have no desire to go over this again.” He returned his attention to packing.
“So you’re abandoning us, then?”
Nikolas remained silent for a moment, which Katia took advantage of.
“It’s just like you playing troll-slayer with the elves. If you’d stayed with us, then you’d have been there to help us fight from the start. But since you don’t like the situation, you’re running away.”
Nikolas drove the dagger he was holding into the table halfway to the hilt. He turned to face his sister again, breathing deeply to contain his anger.
“Believe what you want, little sister, but I have never and will never abandon this family-”
“Then why-” Katia began to interrupt.
“-As long as I believe we are doing the right thing. I have no objection to fighting the undead, and I believe that their complete annihilation should be the goal of every free and living man, woman and child.”
“Then why-” she tried to interrupt again, so Nikolas cut her off even louder.
“But I don’t agree with nor believe in the way the Scarlet Crusade is trying to fight this war. The Crusade and its leadership is corrupt and full of hate, vengeance, and darkness, killing hundreds and thousands who stand in their way, all on the chance that they might be collaborators. The thought of any living soul collaborating with the Scourge is insane! And I can not and will not condone or support the murder of innocent lives, just so you can say ‘better safe than sorry,’ even if it means going a separate path than you and Mother.”
Katia was ready with her answer. “If you loved Father, you’d stay and help destroy those who murdered him.” But Katia was not ready for his response.
Nikolas crossed the distance to his sister in a half a second, burning holes into her plate armor and face with his look.
“Don’t you dare accuse me like that! I loved Father more than you’ll ever know! I was there with him when he died! I saw him murdered! And I have lived with that pain every day since!”
Katia was silent as Nikolas began to pace around the room. He came back to her after a moment.
“No, I didn’t spend as much time around Father as you had. Yes, I was off learning something different than what he wanted. But he respected me and my decision enough to recognize that was what I truly wanted, that I wanted something other than the path he and you chose. He was so proud of you for following the same path he did, for following the Light! And you don’t even recognize that!”
Tears had begun to well up in his sister’s eyes. She was silent for a moment.
“We honor Father by carrying on the battle he fought and died for. And you’re running away.” There was more than a touch of resentment in her voice.
“I’m not running away, little sister.” Nikolas was consciously trying to use a soft tone- he wanted nothing less than to leave on a bitter note. “But the way you and Mother are fighting this war, the way the Crusade is fighting it, is not honoring Father. Isillien claims to teach the Light, and the Crusaders claim to fight by the Light. But if Father were alive, he’d barely recognize the “Light” they use, because their “Light” is riddled with darkness and corruption and murder.”
“How would you know to recognize the Light?” Katia was trying to hold on to her anger, Nikolas thought. “You were never around to study it.”
“I learned it by watching Father. And I know that if he were here, he wouldn’t fight with the Crusade. Not like this. Father wouldn’t want you or Mother to lose yourselves to this corruption for his sake. And you know that’s true.”
Katia turned away to hide her now-flowing tears. But her sobbing gave it away. Nikolas walked over to her and tried to hug her, but she shrunk away from him.
“You’re wrong. You’re wrong about the Crusade, Isillien, Father, everything. And running away only makes you a coward.”
Nikolas’ tone became almost pleading. “Listen to yourself- I’m your brother, Katia. I’m not running from the war, I’m choosing to fight on a different front. I will fight the Scourge, but I will do so as I see fit, as clearly you must do. I hope, I will pray daily that the Light will bring us together again. But while you and Mother choose to walk a path dictated by evil and darkness, our paths must be separate.”
He gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him, although she still looked at the floor.
“Katia, I know that you believe you are doing is right. And I know you and Mother want revenge for Father’s death- I do as well. But I believe that although the Scarlet Crusade may have started by following the tenets of the Light, I can’t help but feel that somewhere along the way they lost sight of it. They’ve let dark thoughts and deeds and motives take over, and all that’s left is a shell of the Order of the Silver Hand, one that even Father couldn’t recognize.”
Katia looked up at him finally, and Nikolas thought he saw both pain and resentment.
“You’re wrong, you know. About everything. You think we’ve forsaken the Light? We battle against the Light’s very enemies. What greater threat could there be to the Light than creatures, abominations whose masters are the element of darkness, demons of the Shadow? And we will defeat them. We will drive them from existence itself, and we will do so by whatever means. We, the Scarlet Crusade, will be the saviors of Azeroth by defeating the Scourge down to the last monster. And on that day, you will see how wrong you were, how scared you were, and how small you are.”
Nikolas stared at her in disbelief- he knew she believed in the Crusade but until now had no idea how deeply its ideology had ensnared her mind. He nodded.
“Time will tell, like you said, little sister. But I fear for you, fear for what this…Crusade…will make of you, and I fear that I won’t recognize the little sister I love and try to protect.”
“I don’t need your protection. By the Light, the Crusade has all the protection I need.”
“Except from yourself.”
The siblings fell silent, Katia staring at Nikolas with cold eyes, he looking back with pity and sadness. Finally, Nikolas spoke.
“I’m leaving as soon as I’ve finished packing. I won’t have to worry about the Crusade arresting me, will I?”
His feeble attempt at humor dispelled some of the tension. Katia shook her head, “I wouldn’t dally if I were you. You aren’t going through the main gate, are you? The Crusade will ask a lot of questions if you just ride up with a bunch of stuff on your horse.”
“Dusk is only an hour away. I’ll go during the evening service.” Part of Nikolas was wary at telling her all his plans, but he felt he had to trust his own sister not to betray him. She wouldn’t, despite the argument they’d just had. “There’s a tree near the wall I can climb. You might want to cut it down after I’m out- easy way for spies to get in.”
“Just take care of yourself. I need someone to argue with after the war is over.”
Nikolas smiled, glad they weren’t leaving on bitter terms.
“I’m not out of this war, little sister. I’ll see you yet.”
“I’ll pray for it. You do the same, okay?”
“I plan to. You take care of Mother, alright?”
Katia nodded, finally calm from their row. She surprised Nikolas by hugging him and delivering a kiss on his cheek, which he gave to her in kind. One last look, then Katia turned and left.

Nikolas Leaves His Family, Part I

The door to Naya Tien’s bedroom opened. She looked up from her task of folding clothes and saw her son, Nikolas, standing there, faintly silhouetted by the firelight from the hearth in the next room.
“You’re back,” she said, relief visible on her face. “Were you seen?”
Nikolas smiled, though a bit weakly, she noticed. “If I was, I must have been scary enough to convince them not to do anything.”
Naya smiled back at her son’s comment. Every time he left to scout the enemy positions, she worried constantly until came back safe. And he always did.
“Anything important to report,” she asked, returning her attention to the clothes.
“Not this time. The Scourge is still well entrenched at Andorhal, and they don’t show any signs that they’re planning to move anytime soon.” Nikolas walked over to the window and sat on the sill, staring out through the glass. The sun would set soon, enveloping the world in darkness.
“Anyone we know die today?” Naya asked the question casually, for long months of war, especially a losing one, had numbed her, her family, and many others in town to death.
“No, not that I know of,” came the quiet reply.
“Then what’s bothering you?” She always knew when Nikolas had something on his mind, something he wanted to get out but couldn’t without prompting.
Nikolas took a deep breath, willing himself to speak. This had been coming for some time now.
“I’m leaving.”
“Where is your assignment this time,” she asked. “Or are you allowed to say?”
“There is no assignment,” was the soft answer.
Naya stopped folding clothes again and looked at her son. He was still looking through the window into the distance, as if trying to see something far off.
“What do you mean?”
Nikolas looked at his mother. “I mean I’m leaving Hearthglen. I don’t intend to return, at least not for a while.”
She laid the half-folded shirt in her hands down on the bed and walked over to the window where he son stood.
“Nikolas, what’s wrong? Tell me, please.”
“You know what’s wrong, mother.”
“Is it Isillien again?”
Nikolas chuckled. “You say that like he’s a schoolyard bully. You say that like I’m a child.”
“But that’s what it is, though,” she continued. They had debated the High Priest often over the last fortnight or so.
“Mother, it’s the same thing it has been for the last few weeks: Isillien, the Crusade, everything.”
“I thought we were over that, Nikolas,” she said, frowning.
“You and Katia are over it. None of this was ever an issue to you or her,” Nikolas responded, his voice becoming more earnest.
Naya assumed a stern look on her face. “Nikolas, why does Isillien bother you so much? Why is he such an obstacle for you?”
“Why do you trust him so much? You don’t really know him,” he shot back.
“I know that he wants to reclaim Lordaeron from the Scourge, something we all want. I know he believes in and uses the power of the Light, something we al believe in. And I know he feels the same pain of loss that our family does.”
Naya put her hand on her son’s shoulder. “Your father’s death is still very hard on all of us. I know, Katia knows, how especially hard it is for you, since you saw him killed- you were there beside him when he was murdered by those undead monsters.” Her voice cracked, and she wiped her eyes, which had become moist from emotion at the topic of Altus Tien’s death.
“It is hard,” Nikolas admitted. “I think about it every day. But is this, what Isillien teaches, the course Father would want us to walk?”
“What do you mean?”
Nikolas stood and started pacing, clearly agitated. “I’m talking about what I always talk about, Mother: Isillien, his teaching, his ‘Scarlet Crusade.’
“Can’t you see how extreme, how dangerous his mind is becoming? He has become so bent on fighting the Scourge, he can’t even see straight.”
“We should all be so dedicated to driving back those monsters,” Naya said, the fervor in her voice rising.
“Aye, and I want them gone as much as anyone, Mother, but at what cost? Isillien’s men have started treating everyone who doesn’t share their zeal or fervor as harshly as they treat the Scourge.”
“What do you mean,” Naya asked, her bow furrowed with concern.
“Isillien and his soldiers are labeling people who don’t follow his teaching and ideas as collaborators. They say that anyone who doesn’t support the Crusade is as good as an enemy like the Scourge, and that if you’re not with the Crusade, you’re against it.”
“And you disagree?”
Nikolas was taken aback at this challenge. “You’re bleedin’ right, I disagree. Mother, we’re talking about rage and a desire for vengeance against the Scourge, and it’s so strong, the Crusade can’t see friend from foe. To them, anyone not in a red and white tabard might as well have sunken eyes and flesh falling off his bones! Innocent people are being imprisoned and even executed because they won’t ‘join the Crusade!’ I’ve seen the executions myself, and it happens away from the eyes of the public. They don’t even get a trial!”
Naya took a deep breath. “I’m sure what you saw had an explanation.”
“But it never does, Mother! Every time I come to you, concerned about what I see in the Scarlet Crusade, you tell me there must be an explanation. But there never is. I talk to soldiers, and they’re silent. I try to get in to see Isillien, but he’s always unavailable. I write my concerns to him, but they go unanswered. And my family won’t listen either- you’re too caught up in Isillien’s teaching and greatness to see that he’s made fools of you all!”
Nikolas didn’t anticipate the strike that came from his mother’s hand to his cheek. She stared into his eyes, anger burning flames behind her own eyes.
“Wanting to destroy the same abominations that murdered your father is not foolish. Wanting to reclaim the home that was ripped away from you and your family is not foolish. It is not foolish to want to banish the same demons who have ruined life itself from the world! They took everything, Nikolas, everything but you and your sister. Isillien wants to claim it back, to try and rescue some small piece of the lives we had before. If extreme measures need to be taken to visit on the Scourge the same destruction and violence and ruin that they have brought to us, then so be it!”
“And what of those who aren’t undead, who don’t want to join this mad Crusade,” Nikolas shot back. Both he and his mother were standing, facing each other and staring hard into each other’s eyes.
“If they won’t help us, they’ll just get in the way. And they’ll just as likely end up as victims of the Scourge, raised to fight against us. It’s better that they die by our hand than by that of the Scourge. We’re doing them a service.”
Nikolas’ expression turned from one of determination to one of incredulity. “Can you hear yourself, Mother? Do you actually understand what you’re saying? You’re talking madness, the same madness Prince Arthas felt at Stratholme.”
“Don’t you dare compare the Crusade to Arthas and his downfall. He fell to the Scourge, yes, because he was beguiled by demons. The only way for us to avoid the same fate is to fight fire with fire, to have the strength to stand against the demons, no matter the cost.”
Nikolas sighed. “You’re talking just like Arthas did, Mother. Father and Uther and the other paladins left Prince Arthas because he talked like that.”
“You leave your father out of this! You don’t know what he would have done!”
“I know he wouldn’t have thrown away what he believed in, all for the sake of revenge.”
There was a long pause. Both continued to breathe, their breath burdened by the heavy conversation.
“And what about me, Mother,” Nikolas began quietly. “You know I don’t believe in the Scarlet Crusade, I don’t approve of their methods and ideology, and I have absolutely no intention of joining them. Am I to be arrested and executed as a collaborator as well?”
Naya was taken aback. “No, of course not,” she said, nearly stammering.
“And why not?”
“You’re different,” came her soft answer.
“And what makes me different,” Nikolas asked. “Why do I deserve special treatment?”
“Because you’re my son- and the son of Altus Tien. The Crusade will respect that,” she said, though to Nikolas, she sounded not altogether convinced.
“Mother, I am no better than anyone out there, much less those who have been murdered in the name of the Crusade. And it’s only a matter of time before one of those…Crusaders…decides I’m not pulling my weight. You know that will happen.”
Naya was quiet for a moment. When she finally spoke, it was almost a whisper.
“So you’re just leaving, then.” It was more of a statement than a question.
Nikolas’ face almost pled for her understanding, though he didn’t expect much of it.
“We don’t share the same view of this Crusade, you and I. I’m as angry and sad and pained as you are over Father’s death. And I want to be rid of the Scourge as much as anyone. But the road you and Katia and the others are choosing to walk is a dangerous one and for me, it heads to dark places. And I will not go down that road. Yes, the Undead are monsters, and yes, we must fight them. But what good is it to fight for our homes if we lose ourselves in that fight? You know I love you, Mother, and I want to stand with you and Katia and finish this war. But you are becoming consumed by revenge and hate, and that is something I can not and will not do. If I can’t be with my family, then I will go and find the place where I am needed. If that’s against the Scourge, so be it.”
He walked up to her. “If it is somewhere else, then that is where I will be.” An embrace and he kissed her on the forehead. Naya started to cry, but did not notice the tears in her own son’s eyes as he whispered into her ear.
“Come and find me anytime.”
And with that, Nikolas turned around and left.

Note to Readers and Nikolas' Backstory, Part IV

NOTE TO THE READER: There are several stories floating around in my head- the one I originally started developing, which takes place largely in the southern province of Duskwood, as well as others centered more in the four or five years since Nikolas joined Ravenholdt (detailed below). In this post and previous others I have tried to provide an abridged account of Nikolas' Tien's life, so that you may better understand who he is and where he comes from.

In addition to the story(s) as I write them, I may occasionally include short snippets or excerpts from Nikolas' life that provide insight into either his character or significant events from his past. Please, feel free to leave comments, critiques, notes, questions and such in comments. I am a fledgling writer and want to do as well as I can, and feedback is a key. Thank you for reading, and enjoy as I try to introduce you to Nikolas Tien.

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Nikolas met up with Myrokos and the pair returned to Quel’Danil. As they traveled, Nikolas told Myrokos what happened with his family, and said he didn’t know what to do next. He really had no desire to keep fighting the trolls, though he said he would if that’s where he was needed. Myrokos offered a suggestion that surprised: become a rogue. The elf revealed that he belonged to a secret guild of rogues and spies, led by a wealthy man living in the mountains northeast of Hillsbrad and Southshore. He told Nikolas the guild had need for good men like him, men of integrity (which Nikolas found amusing coming from a thieves’ group) and cunning. Nikolas was wary, as he found clandestine organizations something to keep at arm’s length. Myrokos offered to introduce the guild’s leader, who would explain what use he had for Nikolas, if he was willing. Nikolas agreed to the meeting, telling himself to tread lightly.

The man turned out to be Jorach Ravenholdt, who revealed that his guild, also called Ravenholdt, got its start as a league of assassins. They still operated in this capacity, but had expanded their operations in the years following the Second War. Following the War, the political climate had become an interesting one. Though the Alliance of Lordaeron existed on paper, the nations that were part of it operated largely autonomous of one another. That meant that things like protection and enforcement were a lot harder to realize without the overarching infrastructure of the Alliance in tact. Jorach realized that great profit could be made by working with these nations in a secret capacity, performing those tasks that were either too difficult or too controversial for the official governments to perform. In particular, groups had formed that threatened the governments on varying levels, groups which after the war the Alliance didn’t have the manpower or resources to combat.

That’s where Jorach and his guild had stepped in. Jorach had personally made offers to those rulers of the Alliance who would grant him audience: Stromgarde, Lordaeron, and Kul Tiras***. To these three kingdoms, Jorach offered the services of his guild in performing those services in which official hands would be tied. He offered a situational agreement, meaning that when they needed something, he would provide, and there would be no obligation whatsoever save monetary payment. If he needed something he would ask the kings, but if they refused he would leave it at that. Jorach was not one to get caught up in favors and obligations. All three rulers told Jorach that if they needed him, they would seek him.

Their tasks for the kings mostly consisted of spying on the other nations- they used his guild to avoid implications should the spies be caught. They paid particular attention to Gilneas and the former kingdom of Alterac. Ravenholdt had little success with the former, as Gilneas had built a massive wall along its borders, making infiltration impossible by land and very difficult by other means. Alterac, however, occupied much of Ravenholdt’s time.

Alterac had betrayed the Alliance in the Second War by aiding the Horde in several instances. Aiden Perenolde, the lord of Alterac, felt the Horde would be victorious, and he and the other nobles agreed that being on the winning side was paramount. Their betrayal was uncovered by the Alliance, and punishment was swift and severe. Alliance forces razed many of the towns and cities in Alterac and drove those nobles who weren’t executed for treason into exile, along with most of the citizens of the nation.

From that time forward, the Alterac exiles were forced to wander from land to land, begging for food and means, often being turned away by those who felt Alterac’s betrayal could have cost the Alliance victory. The exiles started to band together, gathered by those same nobles who had ratified the measures of the former nation’s treason. Many of the nobles had money (which had been hidden away) and influence, which they used to secure their place among the leadership of the exiles’ growing band. They began calling their organization the Syndicate, their goal being to reclaim their former lands and holdings, and regain their former influence. They also sought revenge on those nations who had driven them into exile; they hated Stromgarde, Lordaeron, and Kul Tiras above all others.

Thought they started small, they grew quickly and became strong in a few short years. They struck from the shadows, stealing lands and possessions and resources. They drove farmers and landowners out of their homes and off their farms, claiming those lands for the Syndicate. Most importantly, they reclaimed the razed city of Strahnbrad (Nikolas’ birthplace) and from there ran most of their operations. The Syndicate also claimed the abandoned Durnholde Keep, a ruined fortress that acted as the criminals’ chief outpost. Their power only grew as the nations of the Alliance were forced to deal with the Scourge, so that by the time the Third War ended, the Syndicate was firmly entrenched in their holdings and was able to wreak havoc at will.

Jorach told Nikolas that it was combating the Syndicate which occupied much of Ravenholdt’s time. As the nations of the Alliance struggled to rebuild, they were easy prey for the Syndicate’s assassins and thieves. Jorach had taken the responsibility upon himself and his guild to be the counter to the Syndicate, the Alliance’s sword and shield against the criminals.

To Nikolas he offered work, but Nikolas replied with an expression of discomfort at the thought of being an assassin. Jorach admitted his organization had a stream of assassin’s work, but also said he had something else in mind for Nikolas. Were Nikolas to join the guild, Jorach said, his work would largely be spying, information gathering, and thieving (which Jorach amusedly referred to as “strategic acquisitions”). Jorach was well aware of Nikolas’ skills in combat, and believed he could have been a skilled and formidable assassin. But he was also impressed with Nikolas’ moral core, and knew the lad would never be comfortable with assassination. He gave Nikolas two days to think about it, after which he would require a final answer. But Nikolas returned with an answer after only a few hours. He agreed to join the guild as a rogue, but requested the option of opting out after one year, with a promise to maintain full confidence about the guild and its activities.

Nikolas moved his things into a small cottage near Ravenholdt Manor, which he would share with Myrokos, who was to be Nikolas’ chief trainer at the Manor. Nikolas was stunned to learn that Myrokos had been grooming him for recruitment ever since they met, and that everyhing the elf had taught Nikolas had been geared towards Nikolas' development as a rogue. Myrokos said he had seen great potential for an agile and swift warrior from the outset, and that Nikolas had become a sort of “project,” to see if he could develop the skills necessary to a rogue. Thanks to the tutelage of Myrokos and the other elves, Nikolas had those skills in spades. As part of the Ravenholdt guild, though, it would be Myrokos’ job to make those skills even sharper.



***Alterac had been razed because of its betrayal during the Second War; Gilneas had built a massive wall along its border, cutting itself off from the rest of the continent; Dalaran, the wizard city, had no need for such services; and Azeroth had the services of SI:7, their official intelligence agency.

Nikolas' Backstory, Part III

Nikolas and the others made for Hearthglen, one of the few cities of Lordaeron that had remained unscathed by the Scourge’s advance, where they would find what remained of the Darrowshire defenders at Hearthglen. On the journey, Carlin Redpath, one of the defenders and brother to the fallen captain Joseph, brought Nikolas and his companions up to speed on the Scourge and the war to defend Lordaeron. Nikolas realized that his father might suffer a similar fate, and was heartbroken knowing it was too late to return, for the Scourge had overrun the battlefield as they fled.


When he found them in Hearthglen, Nikolas told his mother and sister what had happened to Altus. They were devastated, feeling the same harrowing grief that Nikolas had rode with the entire way. On that ride, Nikolas had decided to try and lessen the pain of Altus’ death for his mother and sister. So he lied, telling them he and the others had managed to drive off the Scourge long enough to retrieve Altus’ body. He told them they had burned the body along the way and scattered the ashes over Darrowmere Lake. Though they felt bad for lying, Myrokos, Dobrin, Carlin and the others went along with the lie, feeling in their hearts they would possibly do the same were the roles reversed.


Naya and Katia remained at Hearthglen, supporting the war effort from there, while Nikolas and Myrokos acted as scouts for the Lordaeron defenders. Some months after the fall of Lordaeron, however, there suddenly came a lull in the Scourge’s advance. The undead advances slowed significantly. Nikolas would later learn that this happened for two reasons: the Scourge and their demon masters had suffered a crushing defeat in Kalimdor at the hands of an unlikely alliance between the Horde, those who had fled Lordaeron, and a race of elves native to the western continent. Because of the defeat, the Burning Legion’s control of the Lich King and the Scourge had waned, causing a complicated civil war. The Lich King wrested control of the Scourge away from the Legion, while some of the Undead created by the Scourge began fighting to claim their independence from the Lich King. The power struggle caused the Scourge to turn its intention inward and away from what remained of the northern nations, allowing the survivors of the war to begin rebuilding.


At this point in time, Nikolas’ relationship with his family began to be strained. In Hearthglen, Naya and Katia- still grieving over Altus- had joined a group called the Scarlet Crusade. This body of zealots, comprised of Lordaeron Survivors, had the singular mission of wiping the Scourge and all other Undead from the face of the land. Their fanaticism in reaching that goal reached extreme measures, to the point of questioning the “living/undead” status of every person not of their ranks. The Scarlet Crusade was merciless in its persecution of the Undead, to the point of labeling anyone who would not join or support the Crusade as a “sympathizer” of the Undead. So bitter was the hatred of Naya and Katia toward the Scourge that they were easily captivated and taken in by the spirited and zealous preaching of the Crusade’s leaders.


Nikolas was less sure about the Scarlet Crusade. While he certainly felt strongly that the Scourge must be fought, he could not share the same extreme views and methods of the Crusade. On one visit to Hearthglen, when he expressed his concern to Naya, he was surprised when she got angry and accused him of not fully understanding the nature of the Scourge. She said Nikolas hadn’t been around when they had started to invade and slaughter Lordaeron, so he couldn’t possibly understand the threat as well as the other survivors. She said he had been too busy playing “troll conqueror” in the woods to pay attention to the world outside the mountains, so he couldn’t ever have the same feeling of justice or grief that the others had. Her purpose (and that of the Scarlet Crusade) was to visit destruction on the Scourge for what they had done to their homes and families; Naya intended to take her revenge on the Undead for the death of her husband.


Nikolas asked her if she shared the sentiment about those who wouldn’t join the Crusade, if she felt he was a “sympathizer.” She told him she knew he wasn’t, but that if he wasn’t going to help the Crusade, he’d be better off leaving, for there were some who wouldn’t like his cool attitude toward the Crusade. He bid Naya farewell, promising to come and visit. She asked what he would do. He told her simply that he would seek to find his place in the world. With a kiss and a hug, Nikolas left his mother in Hearthglen, not to see her for several years.


Katia rode with Nikolas to the edge of Hearthglen. They talked, and Nikolas learned that Katia saw things in much the same way as Naya did. Katia felt it was her duty as a bearer of the Light to destroy that which was unholy and destructive to the Light. Nikolas felt she was betraying the Light in her methods, but kept that to himself for the sake of their relationship. He bid her farewell also, telling her that should she or Naya wish to see him, they should send a message to Quel’Danil- he wouldn’t always be there, he felt, but they would know where to reach him. With that, Nikolas turned away from his family and returned to the Hinterlands, to Aerie Peak and Quel’Danil, the only places which he could call home.

Nikolas' Backstory, Part II

Nikolas also trained with the Wildhammer dwarves of Aerie Peak, becoming a skilled gryphon rider, though his ability would never match that of the dwarves. Nikolas gained a gryphon as a pet and mount when he rescued a griffit (baby gryphon) from predators who had killed its parents. The animal attached itself to Nikolas, who raised it and cared for it into maturity. The two have become close friends and share a bond as strong as those of the Wildhammer riders and their mounts. He named the gryphon Skora. Nikolas’ roles in tracking and hunting mean he only rides Skora when scouting from the air or traveling long distances (Nikolas began to visit his family more frequently thanks to the reduced travel time).

War came into the Tiens’ life for the third time in Nikolas’ 27th year. At the time, Nikolas had spent nine years training with the elves of Quel’Danil and fighting forest trolls in the Hinterlands. When his family came to visit in the summers, Altus would speak more and more of dark rumors beginning to spread across Lordaeron. He advised Nikolas to keep his eyes and ears open for something called the Cult of the Damned, a mysterious group rumored to be involved in sinister and demonic works. Very little was known about the cult until the year 25 (counting from the year the Horde appeared). It was then that the Cult made its dark designs known to the world by releasing a plague upon the cities and citizens of Lordaeron.

This plague was more than a simple disease- it killed those whom it infected, but then raised them into a state of undeath- the plague’s victims became mindless undead minions of him whom the Cult of the Damned served, the Lich King. The Lich King, in turn, served a massive army of demons and demon lords called the Burning Legion. The Legion’s singular goal was to wipe Azeroth of all life and conquer the world for its own. The plague would be the means to this end, and the Scourge, the undead army raised by the Lich King and his servants, would be the instrument for delivering the plague.

Rumors of the plague began spreading in the northern areas of Lordaeron, but the Cult of the Damned was revealed to Lordaeron at large thanks to the efforts of Uther Lightbringer, the leader of the Knights of the Silver Hand, and his protégé, the crown prince himself, Arthas Menethil. The two paladins, with their army, arrived at Andorhal, the town where Nikolas’ family lived, only to discover that grain, tainted with the plague, was being sent out to all reaches of the kingdom. They moved swiftly westward to Brill, but were too late: the grain had been shipped. Arthas, Uther and their comrades swiftly moved to try and stop the spread of the plague, but they were too late. The machinations of the Scourge had ensured the plagues widespread distribution via tainted grain, carried and delivered throughout Lordaeron.

Lordaeron was ravaged by the effects of the plague and the growing undead armies. Most demoralizing of all was that thousands upon thousands of Lordaeron citizens saw their loved ones and friends fall fighting the Scourge, only to see them rise up again to join the Scourge. Fight as they may, the armies of Lordaeron could not stop the growing threat. Many fled westward to the continent of Kalimdor at the behest of a mysterious prophet. But the darkest hours for the kingdom came when Arthas, driven to the brink of madness by his losses and the thought of his homeland falling into darkness, started down a dark path of destruction that would ultimately turn him into the very thing he sought to destroy: the Lich King himself.

Nikolas’ family, though residing in Andorhal at the time, was spared from the plague. Afraid for their safety because of the darks deeds of the Cult, Altus sent Naya and Katia south early in the spring. They lived with Dobrin while Altus and other Knights investigated the Cult. When the Scourge was revealed, Altus was among the Knights who remained with Uther in Lordaeron, even as much of the nation’s population fled to Kalimdor. Though the Silver Hand knew it would be a next-to-impossible task, they felt it was their duty to use the Light they wielded in combating the forces of darkness. When Arthas disbanded the Knights of the Silver Hand after Uther questioned the prince’s decision to kill the residents of the city of Stratholme rather than see them fall to the plague, Altus went with the Lightbringer to defend their home while maintaining their obedience to the tenets of the Light, which Arthas had forsaken. Uther and the other Knights decided to spread out and help defend as many towns and cities as their numbers would allow. Uther assigned Altus to help lead the defense forces of Darrowshire. The relief force was bolstered by several magi from Dalaran and other soldiers who had not fled to Kalimdor. Despite Altus’ protests, Naya and Katia both decided to stay with him- Naya joined the magi and Katia agreed to support the army by healing and tending to the wounded.

Altus notified Nikolas, by courier, where he and the family were headed and what their mission was. Nikolas decided to join them at Darrowshire. Myrokos went along voluntarily, and Nikolas managed to convince Dobrin and a few other dwarves to go as well, but most of the Wildhammers and Quel’Danil elves chose to stay away from the conflict.

The relief force led by the Silver Hand arrived mere days before the Scourge hit Darrowshire. The Knights, led by a paladin named Davil Lightfire, interspersed themselves among the troops to maximize their abilities. Naya and the magi positioned themselves on buildings and elevated terrain to allow them clear line of sight to cast their arcane powers against the Undead. Katia remained in the back, ready to aid those who fell or were hurt.

Nikolas, Myrokos, Dobrin and the others arrived by gryphon mere hours before the battle began. They sent their mounts away to safety; then Nikolas and Myrokos and a few Darrowshire citizens went out ahead to scout the Scourge position. Their reports were grim: the Darrowshire forces were grossly outnumbered. But they chose to stand and defend their homes.

In short, it was a massacre. The Scourge, led by the death knight Marduk the Black, tore into the defenders and slaughtered all in their path. Small victories were won on small levels, but the living never had a real chance against the Undead. Davil managed to kill Horgus the Ravager, one of the Scourge’s captains, but suffered a mortal wound in the effort and died shortly thereafter. At the height of battle, Marduk came to the captain of the Darrowshire militia, Joseph Redpath, and tore him apart. He twisted Redpath’s soul into a corrupted version of itself; Redpath the Corrupt then began twisting and befouling the souls of his former comrades, turning them on their fellows. The fighting didn’t last long after that. Altus gave the order to retreat and flee to those few who remained. His family had been spared, and they began to flee. Altus, Nikolas, Myrokos, Dobrin and a few others stayed behind to try and slow any Scourge pursuers. They managed for a little while, until an Abomination (a massive twisted monster made up of the parts of corpses) joined the fray. Altus challenged the creature as Nikolas and Myrokos peppered it with arrows, but to no avail: the Abomination grabbed Altus, and, with the Knight hacking at its arm to escape, crushed him. Nikolas and the others failed to bring the Abomination down, and were forced to flee after the others. As they ran toward the cover of forests, Nikolas stole one last look back at his father’s broken body. Altus was dead, murdered at the hand of the Scourge.

Nikolas' Backstory, Part I

Two years before the Horde first appeared in the Black Morass and ravaged the lands of Azeroth, Nikolas Altus Tien was born on his father’s sheep farm near Northshire Valley. Altus Galor Tien was a priest of the Clerics of Northshire, a body of holy men who devoted themselves to study of the Light and its power. His wife, Naya, spun the sheep’s wool into threads and sold them to tailors in Northshire and Stormwind. Naya, daughter of a noble of Alterac, had been magically trained as a child in the wizard city of Dalaran. She met Altus when his mentor was assigned as an advisor to a diplomatic envoy from Stormwind to Dalaran. During the year-long assignment, they fell in love, and when it came time for Altus to leave, Naya- despite the disapproval of her nobility-obsessed parents, decided to leave her training and join him. They were married shortly after their return to Northshire. Altus built the sheep farm and tended to his flocks while continuing study at Northshire Abbey.

While Nikolas was still a child, Altus was called to fight with the armies of Stormwind against the invading Horde. Though trained in basic combat, Altus acted more in a supporting role, healing and caring for wounded soldiers. His family (which had increased with the birth of Nikolas’ sister eight months before the war) was kept safe in the confines of the Abbey, though they moved to Stormwind City when the Abbey was sacked.

In the waning days of the war, Altus returned home to his family, telling them they had to leave, for the Horde was on its way to Stormwind. Taking refuge in the mountains west of the great city, they linked up with many other refugees fleeing the cities destruction. When Anduin Lothar, champion of Azeroth, decided to flee to the far northern lands of Lordaeron, where they would seek shelter from their kindred human kingdoms, Altus took his family across the sea with the remnants of Azeroth’s once proud populace.

Upon arrival in Southshore, a major port of Lordaeron, Naya suggested they move up north to Alterac, where she would entreat her parents for shelter and aid. They arrived in Strahnbrad, where her father, Lord Caiberd Layette and his wife and daughter, Naya’s sister. But Caiberd, still bitter at what he saw as Naya’s spiteful decision to marry against her father’s will, cruelly turned his refugee daughter and her family away. As they left, Naya’s proud but gentler mother secretly gave Naya some money, saying it was a portion of her inheritance. But Naya’s jealous sister found out and told Caiberd, who had the Tiens brought back. Caiberd accused his daughter and her family of being thieves and beggars. He had Altus restrained, and proceeded to beat Naya in front of her family. Caiberd then cast the Tiens out, exiling them from the family’s lands and holdings, and essentially from Alterac as a whole.

The Tiens returned to Southshore, where Altus was sought out by Sammuel, a fellow cleric from Northshire, who said that a new order of soldiers was being formed. Archbishop Alonsus Faol, the leader of the Church of Light, had decided to train priests and clerics in martial skills, making a new order of holy warriors to fight with the newly formed Alliance of Lordaeron (the combined might of the seven human kingdoms, the elves of Quel’Thalas, and the dwarves of Aerie Peak and Khaz Modan) against the Horde threat. The order was to be called the Knights of the Silver Hand, and its members were to be called paladins. They would wield the power of the Light against the dark magic of the Horde’s warlocks, while retaining their devotion and piety to the Light and its teachings. Altus agreed to train as a paladin, a difficult decision which meant he would leave his family for war once again.

As the Alliance marched to counter the Horde’s advances, Naya took her children and sought refuge at the monastery in the northern glades of Tirisfal. Here she raised her children for the next eighteen months, teaching them the ways of the Light, as well as some of what she remembered of magic from her days at Dalaran. Katia showed more interest in the Light and its power, while Nikolas seemed to be more adept at magic.

The war ended, and Altus came to find his family at the Monastery. He was assigned to join the Silver Hand’s paladins at Andorhal. There he settled his family for what he hoped was the last time. Every year during the warm summer months, Altus and his family would travel south to the Hinterlands to Aerie Peak, where resided Altus’ friend Dobrin Wildhammer, a warrior and blacksmith he had met during the war. Altus and Dobrin had fought in many of the same battles and had become close friends; further, Dobrin felt indebted to Altus because the latter had saved his life three times in the campaign to retake Grim Batol. The dwarves welcomed the Tiens and taught them much about their ways, even about the mighty gryphons for which Aerie Peak was legendary. The children learned to groom and care for gryphons young and old, and even learned to ride them. Altus learned to ride the mighty creatures, too, but Naya’s fear of heights kept her firmly on the ground. The Tiens’ time at Aerie Peak would often stretch into the autumn months, when they would return north to Andorhal ahead of the harsh Hinterlands winters.

In their time in the Hinterlands, the Tiens also came to know many of the high elves who dwelt at the Quel’Danil hunting lodge east of Aerie Peak. Nikolas, in particular, was fascinated by the elves and their ways. While Katia was a devoted student of the Light and its ways throughout her adolescence, Nikolas spent many of his days learning to hunt and track and fish in the wild forests, skills for which Nikolas showed a natural affinity and aptitude (Altus always hoped Nikolas would become a paladin like him, but had great pride in his son’s talents; Katia would follow in her father’s footsteps in becoming a paladin). One elf in particular, a tracker named Myrokos Silentform, took a liking to Nikolas and became very close to the Tien family. With Altus’ and Naya’s approval, when Nikolas was sixteen, Myrokos took Nikolas as a kind of apprentice- he began living at Quel’Danil year round. He would see his family in the summers when they came to visit Aerie Peak.

The Hinterlands can be dangerous to those who are careless or untrained; thus it was at age 19 that Nikolas began honing his skills in real combat. The dwarves and elves had long been at odds with the three tribes found in the Hinterlands: the Witherbark, the Revantusk, and Vilebranch. All three had fought alongside the Horde in the Second War. After the Horde’s defeat, the Vilebranch and Witherbark tribes, bitter at the Horde’s failure, broke off and became independent again. Only the Revantusks remained loyal to the Horde; the Vilebranch and Witherbark tribes began hunting and fighting with the Revantusks, even sacrificing the Revantusks for their own dark purposes. But despite the inter-tribe quarrels, all three remained bitter enemies of the Wildhammer dwarves and the elves of Quel’Danil.

Nikolas, his youth notwithstanding, showed himself very capable of fighting trolls. He displayed a natural quickness and agility, made more effective by his opting to use smaller blades. His melee weapons of choice became two long knives, each about two feet long. With training, Nikolas also developed a keen marksman’s eye, shooting with accuracy to rival many of Quel’Danil’s best bowmen. In short, Myrokos’ training, coupled with Nikolas’ natural aptitude, enabled the lad to become one of the best hunters and trackers in the Hinterlands. It was this training and this development that would set Nikolas on the path which his life has followed.

Reboot

Sorry, I'm changing some of Nikolas' backstory, especially as regards his parents and birthplace. I'll post a basic timeline of his life soon.

And I've changed his father's name to Altus Galor Tien.

Okay, that's all for now.

Down to One

So if you haven't noticed, I've been focusing a lot on Nikolas. He's definitely the main character, and honestly I don't even give much thought to Keina, who was to be the other main character. She (or another version/persona) might still factor in, but that's a ways off. I'm still working on and kneading and folding and shaping and molding Nikolas into the character I want him to be.

Everything else is just peanuts for now.

Stay tuned.

Main Man

This is an aid to creating a character, courtesy of Dramatis Personae. I decided to use it to help flesh out the main character of the story.

Name: Nikolas Tien

Hair Color: Brown to dark brown; has facial hair- not too groomed, but not really scruffy.

Eye Color: Brown

Height/Weight: 6 feet tall, about 220. Very strong, defined, athletic, healthy.

Age: 31. He was born a year before the Horde first invaded Azeroth (according to the following timeline).

Social Status: His family is part of the lesser nobility in Alterac. Long story short- Alterac was a nobility-based kingdom that turned on the other human kingdoms during the Second War(Warcraft II). The Alliance found out, got pissed, labeled the Alterac rulers as traitors, and kicked them out of their own kingdom.

Family: Nikolas' mother, Merika, is the daughter of a higher Alterac noble (name and particulars to be fleshed out later), one of the prestigious and haughty kind. She showed magical potential and studied at Dalaran (big city for wizards and Dumbledores-in-training). During an extended stay at home, she began to be courted by a man named Galor Tien, a sort-of lesser noble (kind of a middle class: well educated but not as rich as the snobby nobles, and often craftsmen and tradesman by profession but not as poor as peasants and many farmers). The class difference pissed her father off, but she married Galor anyway and they had Nikolas. He has a younger sister, Katia (her details to be fleshed out later). Nikolas is currently single.

Hometown: Nicholas was born in the Alterac capital, Strahnbrad, where his family lived until Nikolas was 9. His father, who had fought in both wars against the Horde, had befriended a number of dwarves and elves in battle. One of Galor's best friends, Uri Thundermantle, invited Galor and his family to live in the foothills near Aerie Peak, home to the Wildhammer dwarven clans.

Concept (a 2-5 word description of how you envision your character): honest but uncertain do-gooder.

Pardon the Longer Silence

Here's what I'm up against- my "creative time" is much more scarce than it used to be- free time at work really doesn't exist anymore. But that's a good thing- it means I'm actually contributing to productive society. But it's also not as fun :(

On a more creative line of thought, I'm having difficulty seeing past the first few paragraphs, so to speak. In some ways, I know where I want this story, the story of Nicholas Redpath (who will possibly be undergoing a name change soon), to end up, where I want it to go. At the same time, there's so many places I want to go that I can't see how to get to all of them.

One big block right now is the question of who Nicholas is? Okay, by way of explanation, his "character template," if you will, is that of a Rogue from World of Warcraft. Rogues are a class of thieves, assassins and spies, people skilled at hiding in the shadows, sneaking around without being seen, and striking from the darkness at their opponents.

In Azeroth, there are a number of "rogues organizations," some of which are quite nefarious, like the evil Defias Brotherhood or the criminally-centered Syndicate; others strive for the betterment of their respective societies. Such groups can be found on both sides of the war in Azeroth, like the Shattered Hand for the Horde, or SI:7 for the Alliance.

So there are a number of places a rogue looking for work might seek out. A lot of rogues you'd meet in Azeroth are probably like Samwise Gamgee's first impression of Strider in the movie "Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring" - the kind of guy who looks tough and mean from whom everyone steers clear. But I don't want Nicholas to be a typical rogue. He's not evil, he's not menacing, and he's not cruel and malicious- he's dedicated, loyal, and happens to be really good at not being seen/detected. He's approachable, even nice, and won't hesitate to smile or go out of his way to help someone, as long as he's not undercover or something.

There's another organization to which I plan on having Nicholas belong, in part because of his nature. It's a guild of thieves and assassins called Ravenholdt; Blizzard hasn't done a whole lot with Ravenholdt from a lore standpoint, so maybe that's why I like it- I can sort of treat it with some freedom. I picture Ravenholdt as an independent body, free from obligation to any government or military body- basically a bunch of rogues doing what they do because it makes good money. WoWWiki says that Ravenholdt is "diametrically" opposed to the Syndicate, making me see (and treat) Ravenholdt as a kind of foil to the evil produced by the Syndicate. Maybe Lord Jorach Ravenholdt started his guild to answer the Syndicate- I don't know for sure. But this is where I think I want Nicholas to be.

GAH! There's so much I want to tell about him, but I don't want to bore you. Okay, I'll stop this for now and put more in the next post, coming very soon.

Pardon the Long Silence

Hey- sorry if you've been waiting for some updates of more stuff...I've got a few story threads/pieces I'm mulling, and I'm in the middle of retooling some of the characters (changing their background stories, planning their development, etc.). So it could be a little bit. Hang in there- I'll have something soon!

Chapter I Redux

I made a few differences in the beginning: the dream, of course, and dropped the back story.

"Ered'nash ban galar!"
Mist, thick and dark. Like smoke, heavy black smoke from a burning building.
A house, burning. There, a painting of brightly colored elven warships, the gleaming wooden masts curling in the heat, the painted hull bursting into flame from the hot air.
Flesh. Was that flesh burning? Yes, there in the corner, a blackened and charred form, curled up like a sleeping child. A closer look, the face contorted into a scream of pain. Or was it terror?
A scream, faint, distant. Coming from upstairs. It sounded like a child.
Up the wooden steps, dozens of steps, more than should be there, taking forever to reach the top. On the landing, a large lump under a blanket, almost too heavy to remove. Jessica, sweet Jessica, her eyes closed, peaceful, unaware of the spreading danger.
More stairs, endless stairs. There, little Pamela, screaming and crying. But she's not there anymore, not really. Fading, like a shadow, like a memory...
The mist, still thick and dark, but cool now. Damp, like fog at the beginning of spring. And that voice again.
"Manakh sheek-thrish!"
Growling, snarling, from the shadows just out of sight. Pinpoints of light, like eyes, moving closer. They are eyes, small and ominous. And just below them, a gleam, deep and red. Blood, dripping from ghostly white fangs. They move closer and closer. Hot breath, burning skin as the damp mist cools it.
And the voice. Always the voice.
"Belanora mordanos nenaar ila mornu farlos kada!”
------------------------------
Nicholas' eyes opened.
He was breathing heavily, and he could feel sweat on his forehead. His hands felt cold, but his body was hot. He pulled his blanket off and swung his legs out of bed. Resting his elbows on his knees, Nicholas covered his face with his hands.
It was that dream again. The last time he’d had it was on the way to Stormwind, more than a week ago. It always left him in a cold and hot sweat, and always left him afraid. Of what, Nicholas couldn’t exactly say. Not death- that fear had left him long ago. And it wasn’t pain, either- he had been trained to withstand copious amounts of pain. So…what, then?
Nicholas Redpath raised his head from his hands. The light of dawn was starting to creep in through the window. Moisture on the glass told Nicholas it was chilly outside. He got up from the bed and walked into the next room, where there was a washbasin and a tub. Trelayne, the innkeeper, had filled both with fresh water. Steam rising from both told Nicholas she had been in here only minutes before.
He undressed and climbed into the tub, his muscles and body slightly tight from the night’s sleep. The steaming water relaxed him almost immediately, and he rested his head back on the lip of the tub, breathing in the steam. He didn’t move, but replayed the dream in his head over and over.
The burning house had been familiar, as had the people inside. The charred body, he didn’t know, but the house belonged to his uncle Joseph. The unconscious person on the landing was his cousin, Jessica, but he didn’t know why she was sleeping through such chaos. The little girl on the upper floor was his other cousin Pamela, crying and terrified. Perhaps the charred body below belonged to his aunt Sarah.
Or even his own mother. But she hadn’t died in a fire. So it couldn't have been her...could it? She had been murdered. Cut down by mindless monsters, her husband only feet away, but powerless to stop it.
That was so long ago, or so it seemed. But he didn’t think much about it anymore. Not that he forgot or had stopped caring.
Nicholas broke out of his deep thoughts, realizing with a slight smile that his skin had started to wrinkle from the hot bathwater. He climbed out, got dressed, and headed downstairs to see if he could scrounge up some breakfast.
------------------------------
Downstairs, a roaring fire warmed the inn's main hall. All but one of the tables were empty, the one occupied by two men who looked like they'd hit the ale too hard the night previous. Hann, the barkeep, was washing and polishing mugs and steins from the night's business. Chef Grual was busy chopping meat and vegetables- Nicholas caught a strong whiff of fresh sliced onions as he came down off the stairs. He sat at a table by one of the windows, through which the day's light crept in. Almost immediately a barmaid sidled up to the table, tray and towl in hand.
"Good morning, milord," she said in a soft and sweet voice. Nicholas looked up at her. She was young and very pretty, with reddish brown hair falling onto her shoulders. Her eyes were a deep green and she had a pleasant smile.
"Mornin'," he replied back.
"I don't remember you from last evening," the maid asked with a look of curiosity.
"Ah, I got in late. Figured I had a good bit of luck to find a room at that hour," Nicholas said, returning the girl's smile.
"Well, the way things are now in this town, there'll always be a room for anyone who's looking," she said with a slight sigh.
"What do you mean," Nicholas inquired.
"The town's getting emptier every week. Only a few thousand left, many of those from Raven Hill."
"What happened?"
The girl gave him a grave look. "That's a story that takes more time than I have to tell. You'll find out soon, if you talk to enough people. What brings you to Darkshire anyway, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I came to find an old friend. He stopped writing some time ago and I wanted to make sure everything is okay."
"Who is he? I might know him," the girl offered.
"His name is Sven. Sven Yorgen. We knew each other in the war."
The girl chewed her lip as she mulled over the name. "Sounds a bit familiar. Tell you what- give me twenty minutes to finish my work and I'll take you to someone who would know about him."
"That would be great, thank you," Nicholas said. That would save him a day's worth of searching and inquiring.
"My pleasure." The smile was back. "What's your name, stranger?"
"Nicholas. Nicholas Redpath," he answered.
"My name is Alira," she said with a slight bow. "Be back in a bit."

I've Just Had an Apostrophe!

So it hit me as I was driving to work today- if this were to be a movie, Nicholas, the story's hero, would be played by Henry Ian Cusick, the guy who plays Desmond on ABC's "Lost."

Not-a Good-a

Because of changes in work schedule over the next two weeks, there will likely be little story progress in that time period. But there's always room for a surprise or two- stay tuned!

Chapter I - Part I

Nicholas' eyes opened.
He could feel sweat on his forehead, his breathing heavier than usual.
It was that dream again. With the path, and the fog. Where he felt a fear of some unknown danger, some unseen adversary, waiting in the fog. Waiting...for what?
It wasn't a fear of death that Nicholas felt in this dream. Death was something he'd faced numerous times; that fear no longer held place in him. No, it was fear of something...else. What that was, he couldn't figure out. Not that he spent much time mulling it over. There were more important things to consider.
Like his appointment later that morning with Mathias Shaw.
Nicholas Redpath had received the summons two weeks before while on duty in Southshore. His uncle had come to him with a message from Fahrad, asking to see Nicholas immediately. Nicholas rode quickly to Ravenholdt Manor, for such a summons was not to be delayed. There, Fahrad told Nicholas simply that he was to be reassigned to a location of SI:7's choosing. Nicholas had, of course, accepted this, obligated by the alliance between his own guild, Ravenholdt, and SI:7, the Alliance's main intelligence-gathering body.
The two had been allies since early on in the wars against the Horde, a massive empire of orcs and goblins and ogres, bent on conquering the world of Azeroth. Seeing a need for spies and scouts, a wealthy noble, Lord Jorach Ravenholdt, gathered and trained the best thieves, spies and assassins he could find and organized them into a guild. Jorach named the guild after himself, and offered its services to the Alliance.
The alliance was very beneficial both during and after the wars. After the First Was, the Ravenholdt guild began performing deeds both clandestine and sometimes slightly less than legal; in exchange, Ravenholdt agents enjoyed freedom from investigation and prosecution by the Alliance law enforcement. The exchange worked well: the Alliance remained free from many things which could be bad for public relations, and Ravenholdt thrived in their trade.
So Nicholas, without hesitation, returned to Southshore, gathered his belongings, and sailed to Menethil Harbor. From there, he flew by gryphon to Ironforge, home of the dwarves, and from there by gryphon to Stormwind. The journey had been long, but the bed at the Gilded Rose in Stormwind was soft and warm.
Nicholas looked around his room at the inn. Sunlight started to shine through the window. He would meet Mathias in a few hours.
Nicholas sat up and ran his hand over his face, wiping the sweat from his brow. He rose and stretched and walked to the window. Already below, merchants were out and bustling about, trying to sell their wares. The armor of patrolling guards glinted in the sunlight, as polished as mirrors. There was a smell of bread on the air, and Nicholas felt hungry. He decided to step downstairs for breakfast and then explore town. He’d heard the Mage Quarter had all sorts of interesting things to see, and the Park District was supposed to have the best collection of flora from around the Alliance, even from as far as Teldrassil, home of the night elves.
Downstairs, he was wished a pleasant morning by Allison, the innkeeper. Breakfast was a loaf of cornbread, milk, and a wedge of the finest Stormwind Brie. He paid Allison for the night’s stay and meal, and headed out into the street, lit by the bright Azeroth sun.

*************************************

He took a moment to gather his bearings, comparing his surroundings to the map he’d memorized on the journey. He went left, seeing a signpost pointing toward the Mage Quarter.
It took him fifteen minutes to reach the quarter, largely because of the two merchant carts that had become tangled in the road and blocked traffic. But Nicholas was in no hurry, so rather than frustrating him, the bustle gave him a bit of amusement.
He reached the Quarter, and was surprised to see not cobblestone roads, like the rest of Stormwind, but a bed of soft grass, greener than he had ever seen. Surely the work of some sensitive-footed mage, Nicholas thought with a smile. Walking through he saw an odd assortment of wizards and sorceresses, gnome and human alike. Occasionally he caught himself staring at the sight of a passing Draenei. They had only recently started appearing all over the Alliance, and judging by the freedom with which they moved around the city, they must have been on good terms with the Alliance. Nicholas had heard of their appearance near the lands of the night elves, but they largely stayed on that side of the world and in the larger cities, so Nicholas hadn’t seen any yet.
They were large, the males larger than even the tall night elves, Nicholas bet. Blue-skinned, the males had tentacles protruding from their heads, yet they didn’t look odd or repulsive, like the tentacles of a sea creature. The males also had small plates, made of bone, on their foreheads, of different shapes and sizes. Draenei eyes had a soft glow to them, and both males and females had tails. The Draenei had hoofed feet, yet they didn’t walk awkwardly, like cattle; rather, they moved with a grace that defied their size. The males carried a majestic presence about them, and the females were all strikingly beautiful, rivaling even the loveliest human or elf.
Wishing he had more time to get to know some of the Draenei, Nicholas continued. His path took him past tall towers that seemed to pulse with the arcane power undoubtedly flowing through them as the mages within practiced their magic. Outside on the street, some mages entertained passersby and children with magic tricks, be it pulling a dragon whelp from a hat or disappearing and reappearing behind the audience.
Nicholas continued to the Park, stopping to examine the more exotic plant species: blood-red mageroyal and bright wild steelbloom, tall sungrass and chilled icecap. Animals of various species ran around and played among the plants. Here a family walked past Nicholas, the children chasing rabbits and squirrels; there, a class of students practiced art, painting purple lotus plants.
Nicholas felt something, a peacefulness and calm he hadn’t felt since the days before he left home, before he left his parents, Carlin and Marlene. It was the same peace he felt back on his family farm in the Lordaeron town of Darrowshire, growing corn and raising sheep, a peace of knowing you were safe and worries were a world away. Nicholas had left when he was 24, going to Southshore to train as a soldier under his uncle Marcus. But he always knew he could return to the peace of home.

*************************************

That had all changed in the days the Scourge had come. Little by little, more of the lands of Lordaeron, the lands which Nicholas and his family called home, had fallen to the plague spread by those loyal to the Cult of the Damned. Little by little, more people died from the plague, only to rise again as mindless, soulless zombies- minions of the undead Scourge.
The people of Lordaeron fought with all their strength and numbers, but the fight was a losing one. Each man or woman who died at the hands of the undead only rose to join them. Nicholas, who’d been away, had returned home to stand by his father and defend his home. When the Scourge threatened Darrowshire, the defenders sent Nicholas, their fastest rider, to the surrounding regions, mustering all the help he could find. He’d ridden hard and fast to Stromgarde, Tarren Mill, and Southshore, gathering reinforcements to go to Darrowshire’s aid. But even as they prepared to leave, a small band of refugees had arrived in Southshore. They told the gathered soldiers of the slaughter, how the Scourge couldn’t be stopped. One soldier found Nicholas, and with sadness in his eyes, told him of his parents, how both his father and mother had fallen in battle, along with his uncle’s entire family.
Nicholas had little time to grieve, as word came that the Scourge, minions of a larger power called the Burning Legion, was moving in force towards Dalaran, home to the brightest and most powerful mages of the Alliance. The gathered force prepared to move to Dalaran’s defense, though some doubted the mages would even need any help. But again, their courage and muster was in vain- a mighty demon (Nicholas would later learn that the demon was named Archimonde) destroyed Dalaran in one crushing blow. Little remained of one of the Alliance’s greatest cities. With that defeat, and the news that all of northern Lordaeron, including the capital city, were lost to the Legion, the Southshore defenders prepared to mount a final stand.
But the need for it never came, at least not at the time. The armies of the Burning Legion followed the larger remnant of Lordaeron’s forces across the sea to Kalimdor, the massive continent to the west. Southshore, Hillsbrad, and the other remnants of Lordaeron were spared for the time being. Only months later, the Legion suffered a massive defeat on the slopes of Mount Hyjal, where the Alliance joined the Horde and mysterious night elves in holding off the Legion long enough for the powers of nature to gather and destroy Archimonde. From that victory, the night elves became part of the Alliance and a tentative peace between the Alliance and Horde was enjoyed, at least on that side of the world.
Back in the Eastern Kingdoms, the Alliance started picking up the pieces from the Scourge invasion. The Scourge was weakened, but not gone. They still had a large force in Lordaeron, so much that the former Alliance stronghold was considered lost.
Nicholas, at the first opportunity, rode home to Darrowshire. The journey was difficult and perilous- at nearly every turn, the effects of the Scourge could be seen and undead minions roamed the land. Indeed, the provinces where Nicholas had grown up became known as the Plaguelands. But Nicholas was a master of shadows, and hid easily from the Scourge’s monsters.
He arrived in Darrowshire and went to his family farm. The house and barns were burned to the ground, and a grave site marked the burial places of his mother. Hoping that his father hadn’t become a mindless zombie, Nicholas went toward the center of town. There, he came upon a man who identified himself as an agent of the Argent Dawn, a faction dedicated to removing the last vestiges of the Scourge from the land. Nicholas introduced himself, and upon hearing his name, the agent brightened and told Nicholas to go to the Light’s Hope chapel in the Eastern Plaguelands with all haste, for there he would find his father, Carlin Redpath.
Nicholas rode as fast as he could, arriving at the chapel the next day. There, his father recognized him from a distance and ran toward him. Nicholas leapt off the horse and father and son embraced. His father told him how he had indeed fallen in battle, but only wounded. Soldiers from the Argent Dawn found him and nursed him back to health. Grateful for their aid, Carlin joined the Argent Dawn, both in debt to his rescuers, and in a desire for revenge against those who had taken his wife from him. Carlin had returned to bury his wife’s body, which he had burned in order to keep her from joining the Scourge. He had the entire farm torched, to help seal his resolve to visit revenge and wrath on the Scourge.
Nicholas remained at Light’s Hope for several days, telling his father of his life since he left to get help. He couldn’t stay, for his allegiance to his guild demanded his return to service. Nicholas bid his father farewell, with a promise to send word as often as he could, and to return at the first opportunity. He left his father, riding back towards Hillsbrad, wondering if he would see Carlin alive again.
Nicholas broke out of his deep thoughts, realizing he had been standing in the same place, staring at the same bus of Khadgar’s Whisker for some time. Looking at the sun, he realized he had better head toward the Old Town, where SI:7 had its headquarters. He left the Park at a brisk pace, wondering what Mathias had to say that was so urgent.

*************************************

The late morning sun reflected brightly off the large brick structure ahead. As Nicholas approached the large, wooden double doors leading into SI:7, the two guards standing by the entry moved deftly in his path, blocking him.
"And who are you supposed to be," asked the one on the right with a definite smugness that suited his round face.
"A traveler, here to see the Master," Nicholas replied. Rule number one of the rogue's trade- never give out your name if you don't have to.
"From where?"
"Up north."
"Hold on," said the other guard, and he slipped inside, leaving Nicholas and the round-faced guard to stare at each other.
He returned a moment later and waved Nicholas in. The inside of the small keep was dim, but warm from the torches and lit fireplaces. A few people milled about here and there, talking in low whispers. A few glanced in his direction for a brief moment, then returned to their conversations and activities.
Down a staircase to Nicholas' left came a tall and stocky man, with short auburn hair and a short, thick beard. He smiled as he approached Nicholas, who returned the gesture. they took each other's hand in a firm handshake.
"Nicholas, lad, how are you? How was the journey?"
"I am well, Master Shaw, thank you," Nicholas answered. "The journey was long, but comfortable. The Wildhammers do know how to train those birds of theirs."
"Yes, never was very comfortable with flying myself," Mathias said with a grin. "How is your father?"
"Doing well, as far as I know. I haven't heard from him but once since I last saw him. I can't imagine news gets in or out of the Plaguelands much."
Mathias chuckled as they started toward the staircase. "The Scourge probably treats mailmen the same way they treat everyone else. If what I've heard about the Argent Dawn is true, your father is in good company."
"Yes, I'm not terribly worried about him, sir," Nicholas admitted. "He can take care of himself."
"As can you, so I understand," Mathias said with an appraising tone. "Heard from Jorach that you handled yourself pretty well trying to defend Tarren Mill."
They started climbing the spiral stairs.
"Not well enough. All the soldiers fought well, but the Forsaken were too many," Nicholas said. "But Myrokos has been assigned to give them headaches, which he certainly will do, even though I'm not sure zombies can feel headaches."
Mathias laughed. He was a very responsible person, but very pleasant at times. Trained from an early age, his grandmother, of all people, groomed him to one day take over the reins of Stormwind's intelligence gathering efforts. He was still young, only a few years older than Nicholas. But his age was no limit- he carried out his duties efficiently and successfully.
The two men entered Mathias' quarters on the third floor. Mathias directed Nicholas to a chair by the fireplace. He sat in a second chair facing Nicholas. The windows were shut, so the crackling fire provided the only light in the room.
"No doubt you're wondering why I brought you hundreds of miles to our headquarters," Mathias began.
Nicholas simply nodded.
"I've discussed it with Jorach, and we have agreed to give you a new assignment. I'm sending you to the province immediately to our south, Duskwood. Our man there, Flint Shadowmoore, has been moved to the Plaguelands. You know Flint?".
Nicholas shook his head, running through his mind all the things he knew about Duskwood. It didn't take too long- he only knew it was dark and gloomy there.
"Well, we needed his talents up north, which means we need a replacement in Darkshire, the main town."
"I understand, sir. What exactly am I to do there," asked Nicholas, wondering to himself what kind of place Duskwood would be.
"We've heard some interesting rumors from citizens travelling from there. The rumors are a bit ominous, and we need someone of your talent to simply go, keep an eye on things, and learn what you can. See if there's anything to really worry about."
Nicholas nodded slowly. "May I ask what kind of rumors, sir?"
"Well, a few people have mentioned seeing strange creatures around some of the farms, especially the abandoned ones."
Nicholas blinked. Duskwood hadn't always been called that. Before the Second War it had been just as sunny and bright as the rest of Azeroth. But suddenly, and without apparent cause, a darkness had settled over the land. It was more like a thick mist, but one that you couldn't really feel. Some had speculated that it was related to the destruction of the sorceror Medivh during the First War, whose tower fortress of Karazhan was located in the mountains east of Duskwood.
Whatever the case, Duskwood as now a dark and dismal place, worthy of its new name.
"When do I leave," Nicholas asked.
Mathias smiled. "Knew I could count on you."
Nicholas shrugged. "I wanted a change of scenery anyway. All that sunshine was getting to me."
Mathias laughed. "You will go as a blade merchant, travelling the land to sell your weapons. You'll probably make some real money, since people there are jumpy about waht may lie in the darkness."
"My mission?"
"Just keep your eyes and ears open. Send us word from time to time- that will be easy, since your cover says you work for a merchants' guild here in Stormwind, and keep regular correspondence with your superiors. Anything unusual or out of place, let us know and we'll let you know what we want you to do about it. But by all means, if there's something that requires immediate attention, don't wait for us. I trust your judgement- take care of whatever it might be, and we deal with the consequences later."
Nicholas nodded. "Any backup?"
Mathias shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Most of our spare agents are up north keeping an eye on both the Scourge and the Forsaken."
"That's alright. Alone is better," Nicholas said.
"Any questions?"
Nicholas shook his head.
"Alright. Report to Osborne outside when you're ready to leave. He has your equipment, papers, and money. Leave as soon as you can."
They stood. Nicholas nodded and saluted Mathias, who returned the salute.
"Good luck," Mathias said, and Nicholas left the room and the building.

*************************************

A little over an hour later, Nicholas was on the cart, guiding his horse, Adil, through the streets of the Stormwind Trade District toward the main gates. He had enough food and provisions for seven days, but the journey would only take five. His first goal was to stay the night at the Lion's Pride Inn. The next night he'd stay at the Eastvale Logging Camp, near the Redridge border. On the third day, he'd sete up camp at the Three Corners, a major crossing for roads leading to the Three Shires: Goldshire, where the Lion's Pride was located; Lakeshire, the administrative center for the Alliance in the Redridge Mountains, and Darkshire, which he would reach by the fifth day.
Nicholas left the Old Town and started to make his way through the Trade District. A cacophonous wave of aromas tickled his nose: fresh breads and rolls, sharp cheeses, and wines ranging from sweet merlot to strong dwarven lagers. Merchants everywhere called to passersby, offering everything from bright clothing to fresh produce to magical charms. He came to the great bridge that spanned the Stormwind moat, over which towered statues of several heroes of the Alliance. These particular heroes, following the Second War, had pursued the orcs into their homeworld of Draenor to reclaim a number of powerful and important artifacts. To prevent the orcs from returning to Azeroth, so the legends say, the heroes sacrificed their way home and closed the portal, sealing themselves, and the Horde as well, away from Azeroth. Their memory was honored by these effigies, so tall they blocked out the sun at midday during parts of the year. At the gate itself, the guards waved him through, not bothering with the routine inspection. Either SI:7 had warned them of his coming, Nicholas mused, or, more likely, they simply bothered more with what may be coming into Stormwind than what may be coming out.

Side Note

For what it's worth, the preceding Condensed History of Azeroth is meant to be an appendix to my story. You don't have to read it to understand the story, but it certainly helps. If you want the full story, there's a link on the right sidebar you can click. Enjoy!

History of Azeroth, Part III

It would not be long before the freedom of Azeroth, the whole world, would be threatened by the Burning Legion again. Before the First War, after Ner'Zhul defied the Legion, he tried to escape and hide from his former masters. They found him and forced him into servitude once again. The orcs had failed the Legion in conquering Azeroth, so a new plan was formed. Ner'Zhul's soul was reborn as a new, powerful entity called the Lich King, and he would orchestrate the Legion's next attack upon the denizens of Azeroth. The plan was to form and unleash a plague upon the world, which woulf first kill all infected people, then raise them up as undead soldiers and pawns of the Legion. Ner'Zhul set up shop in the icy northern continent of Northrend, from whence he tested and tried his plague, finding it to work perfectly. He also learned he had a great ability to reach out and touch distant minds with his own, something he would later use to his own ends.

At this time, the orcs, imprisoned by the Alliance, grew lethargic and apathetic- they had seemingly lost their warrior spirit. Though some blamed disease, one mage, Antonidas, learned of the orcs' subjugation to demons and came to believe that their lethargy was caused by their growing seperation from their demon masters. The cure could not be a physical or medicinal one- it had to be spiritual.

Thrall, Warchief of the Horde -from wowwiki.com

Aedalas Blackmoore ruled over an internment camp on the foothills of Hillsbrad, and one particular orc held his interest: Thrall, an orphan whom Blackmoore had found during the First War and raised to be his slave. Blackmoore trained Thrall to be a warrior, and hoped to use him as a weapon. But Thrall had no intention of remaining a slave forever- he began to learn of the Horde he never knew, and heard rumors that the Warchief, Doomhammer, was alive and free. Thrall escaped and sought out the Horde's last unconquered chief, Grom Hellscream. Hellscream had kept the orcs' fighting spirit and tried in vain to rouse his kin. He did, however, inspire the warrior spirit inside Thrall, who sought to reclaim his people's honor.

Thrall became a student of the shaman DrekThar, who trained the young warrior in the shamanistic tradition. Using the power of the elements, Thrall set out to free his captive brethren and restore the Horde to its former glory. Beginning with the very internement camp where he had been a slave, Thrall began his campaign. Doomhammer fell in the battle, and Thrall took up the mantle of Warchief. Together with Hellscream, they attacked the Alliance camps and freed the orcs and ogres and trolls, building up again what had been destroyed.

This was only one of the Alliance's concerns, though- bickering and quarreling over political influence and territorial rights led several of the human nations to strike out on their own. Stormwind was rebuilt, and the higher taxes that resulted from the construction effort soured the minds of a few of the Alliance leaders. Even the elves, with whom the humans had fought so closely, left the Alliance. All that remained of the once mighty Alliance were the two nations of Lordaeron and Azeroth, and the wizard faction of the Kirin Tor, who called the city of Dalaran home. They were bolstered by the undying allegiance of the dwarves, who swore to aid the humans in honor of the humans' help in reclaiming the dwarven lands from the Horde.

The Lich King in Northrend -from wowwiki.com

Little did the Alliance know the trouble that was brewing in their very homelands- the Lich King had begun to put his plan into motion. He seduced the mind of a promising Kirin Tor wizard named Kel'Thuzad, whom he used to create a group called the Cult of the Damned. The Lich King used these minions to secretly cultivate the plague that would ravage the land. The plague was unleashed on Lordaeron first by being distributed in grain and foodstuffs, keeping the general populace unaware of the danger. Those who became contaminated died and rose again as minions of the Lich King. These growing armies of undead zombies would come to be known as the Scourge.

The armies of Lordaeron, led by the mighty paladin Uther Lightbringer and his protege Arthas (who was the son of King Terenas of Lordaeron himself) sought to stem the growing tide of undeath, but met little success- the Scourge was growing too fast. Though it was a quickly losing battle, Arthas became obsessed with saving his kingdom, even resorting to extreme methods to do so. Arthas' growing desperation seperated him from his sense and humanity, until he began to lose his very soul. He tracked the Scourge to Northrend, where he fell prey to the Lich King's enourmoous power. He became the greatest of the Lich King's death knights, and returned home to Lordaeron. His mind gone and his soul in pieces, he led the Scourge against his own people, even murdering his father upon the throne.



The Lich King guided Arthas and the Scourge to Quel'Thalas, which he destroyed easily, all but wiping out the high elves which had dwelled there for thousands of years. Arthas then moved south to Dalaran, where he used the magical city to call one of the Legion's greatest lieutenants, Archimonde, into Azeroth. Archimonde destroyed Dalaran in one swift stroke, then prepared to make his next move: destroy the world tree, Nordrassil, on the continent of Kalimdor.

In his way, however, stood an odd alliance. Under the guidance of the young sorceress Jaina Proudmoore, the remnants of the once-proud nation of Lordaeron had fled to Kalimdor. There they had encountered the reinvigorated Horde under the leadership of Thrall. The two had fought at first, but then encountered a mysterious prophet who warned them that if they did not work together, the Legion would destroy their whole world. This prophet was, in fact, Medivh- the same mage who had helped to summon the Horde to Azeroth before the First War. Forming a tentative alliance, the orcs and humans joined the night elves of Kalimdor in defending the world tree from the Legion. They battled the Scourge long enough for Malfurion, leader of the night elves, to summon the collective strength and power of nature. Archimonde reached the World Tree, but as he prepared to destroy it, Nordrassil's primal fury was unleashed, completely destroying the mighty demon and freeing the world from the Legion's tyranny.



In the aftermath of this, the Third War, new nations arose in power. The Alliance between the humans and Horde fell apart. The Horde colonized eastern Kalimdor and made it their home, with the great city of Orgrimmar at its center. For their allies they had the trolls who had stood by them for so many years, as well as the mighty Tauren, a race of bull-like warriors whom Thrall had aided against invading centaurs. The Horde gained two unexpected allies as well. First, the high elves of Quel'Thalas had started to regain their former strength. Desperate to save his people, the high elf ruler, Kael'Thas, began to search for ways to rekindle the magic his people had once thrived on. This they found in Illidan, Malfurion's brother released from imprisonment, who had begun his own crusade to become the most powerful being in the world. The Alliance saw the elves' joining to Illidan as betrayal, so the elves sought alliance with the Horde.

Sylvanas Windrunner, Queen of the Forsaken -from wowwiki.com

The Horde's other ally came in the form of the Undead remaning in the ruins of Lordaeron. Seeking to distance themselves from their former Legion masters, these undead, under the name Forsaken, sought to create their own identity and wipe out the mindless denizens of the Scourge. The Forsaken took over the ruins of Lordaeron and made the ruined capital city their main base of operations, naming it the Undercity. They, too, found alliance with the Horde useful in their goals, though to call the Forsaken and Horde friends is to be naive. The Horde uses the Forsaken in their fight against the Alliance, and the Forsaken uses the Horde in a similar way against the Scourge. Once their goals are met, it would not be a surprise to see the allies part ways.

The Alliance grew after the Third War as well. The night elves, eternally grateful to the humans and dwarves for defending thier home of Kalimdor, became their steadfast ally. This was exteremlely useful in fighting the Horde on Kalimdor, where human and dwarf armies were small at best. On this continent, the night elves held the greater burden of defense.
But they would not stand alone. Shortly after the Third War, a mysterious structure had fallen from the sky onto an island not far from the night elf home of Teldrassil, a tall tree not unlike the World Tree. This structure was actually a ship, designed for travel through space. On the ship were the draenei who escaped the orc slaughter on Draenor. Their ship, the Exodar, had crashed on Azeroth, and the draenei formed their home base from the wreckage. Finding the orcs also on Azeroth, the draenei found natural allies in the night elves and the Alliance.

Draenei Warrior -from wowwiki.com

So the world stands thus today: the Alliance (consisting of Humans, Dwarves, Night Elves, Draenei, and the Gnomes of Gnomeregan who make their home with the dwarves) stand ready to defend their lands, while the Horde (made of the Orcs, Trolls, Blood Elves, Tauren, and Forsaken) prepares to reclaim its former glory. Dark menaces still threaten both factions from outside- whispers of a growing evil in Northrend brush ears far and wide, as well as other menaces closer to home...