Fall of Wuten Ichibun

Part I: Introductions

"I will have my revenge."

These words coursed through the young rogue's mind, as he began to organize his poisons, sheath his daggers, and ready his equipment for the following day. His fury shone through his dark red eyes as he tied up his auburn hair into a ponytail in the back.

"My opportunity has come, he will pay for all the lives he has taken."

He looked at an old photograph of his family he had kept throughout the years. The family that had been taken from him that fateful day, eight years ago, during the fall of Lordaeron.

His family had always been militarian, always putting their kingdom first before their own lives. They were the pinnacle of bravery, the idols of his life. When he sent himself to Westfall to start anew in Moonbrook, his family supported his movement, even giving him gold for the fare to ride the gryphon to the town. He promised them that he would return one day and enlist into the military with his father.

Things didn't quite work out the way he planned.

Merely a few years after his arrival, the Defias Brotherhood took control of the town, killing the women and children, and pulling the stronger members of the town into the mines to slave for them. Wuten was one of those lucky few who survived. Though, lucky wasn't the way he thought of it, he wished time and time again for death to release him from his shackles and free him from the Defias.

That embrace never came, and Wuten was forced to escape himself.

Using simply a mining pick, he crafted a shiv to use for his endeavor; and in one single night, escaped the mines deep below the town. However, upon reaching the outside world, he saw that the once calm town of Moonbrook had changed into the ghost-town, save for the Defias that were occupying the area. Using the shadows to his advantage, he managed to slip past the scattered Defias and make his getaway to the Sentinel Hill, where he returned to the human's bastion of Stormwind.

He enlisted himself into SI:7, the intelligence agency of Stormwind, and eventually, his prowess and skill were recognized by the Assassins' League, and he was sent off to Ravenholdt Manor to begin his true training as a rogue. His natural ability, along with the training he received, gained him prestigious reputation among the assassins. Eventually, he was given an apprentice, who later betrayed him and left for their own motives. He later found out of the Scourge attack on Lordaeron, which had taken place months before he knew, and he was so angry with the league that he left the Manor, returning to Stormwind.

That's where he met them, the Keepers of Stromgarde.

It had been a very informal meeting, Wuten had stumbled upon a tavern within the city walls, and stopped in. Most of the patrons were wearing the colors of Stromgarde, and he inquired about them. He later joined their ranks himself, assisting them with his rogue abilities in their conquests against the Horde, wherever they may be.

That's where he stood today, in the barracks of the Keep, packing his things for what may be his very last time ever seeing them.

"I apologize, comrades…" he spoke to himself, reminiscing on the times he'd had with them, "But it looks like this is the final curtain call…" He finished packing his equipment, slinging it up over his shoulder, and looking at the photograph of his family one final time before tucking it away in his tunic, and walking out the door to the main barracks.

Most of the other Keepers were either asleep against the walls or in chairs, and the ones that were awake were easing into their sleep. Wuten would have no reason to say goodbye, it would be too emotional for him after all this time with them.

"Farewell." He flipped on his hood and mask, opened the door to the outside and closed it behind him, without so much as a single tear.

"Wait, Wuten," a voice came from above him, dropping down to his level. She was Telandra, his current apprentice, a young night elf with long, light blue hair, draped down to her neck. She wore black leather armor, which covered all of her body, save for a small hint of cleavage she always kept open. Her glowing eyes were the only lights out, save for the stars above them. "Where are you going?"

"The Argent Crusade's called for me now, Tel," Wuten looked back at her. "I told you this day would eventually come, where I can finally get my revenge for everything that monster did to me."

"But, what about…" her voice trailed off a bit, "my training?"

The creases in his mask shone that he was smiling, though it was unseen to her in the night sky. "I already told you, there are other masters there that can teach you. You'll be fine, Tel, trust me."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Tel frowned, "It's you; I don't want to lose my master to something so trivial as revenge."

He sighed, pulling out the photograph and looking at it. "Tel, this is a picture of my family, back when I was just a child." He looked up at her once again, handing her the photograph. "I want you to hold onto it until I get back. When you ever feel lonely, just remember that Wuten's always there by your side."

She began to tear up a bit, taking the photograph and pulling him into a tight hug. "I'll keep it with me always until you return, master." She buried her head, trying to hide her tears. "Farewell, brother." Wuten smiled, and wrapped his arms around her slender figure. "I'll be back before you know it, just you wait." With that final statement, he released her from the embrace and turned, smiling as he walked away.

And with that, our story can truly begin.