I do not own World of Warcraft. All rights go to them. Certain characters are NPCs that belong to them. Or toons that belong to other players in the game. No copyright intended.

Chapter 1

-Raid-

Dark, onyx shadows flickered across the large clearing. Hushed whispers and suppressed snickering would still be inaudible for the group's target. A small collection of houses, which resided almost directly off Elwynn's main road, bordered the crossing to Redridge Mountains. The sun was beginning lift itself up, over the horizon, but still, only small rays of sunshine were able to pierce the thickening branches of trees, that dominated the area. Wives had already stirred from their peaceful slumber, as they did each morning. Preparing a tasty breakfast that would give their husbands the energy required for the long day of work ahead. However, all the men were still in bed. The children ran around the village, giggling as they played their games. Among these few early risers, were two girls. Obviously related, one was much older than the other.

She possessed bright blonde hair, cut short so it framed her long face. Twinkling blue eyes made her look like an angel, the fact that she preferred to act as one made her seem almost vain. Prancing around the grass, twirling every so often, to nab the boys' attention. It always worked.

Her sister was different in every way; she stood about half the size as the blonde. This was normal, for a 2 year old. She held a relaxed posture, as she watched the others have fun. Her mother had strictly told her no playing with the big kids, till she was older. But, she didn't mind. Picking at the long grass, she grabbed handfuls and threw them high in the hair, smiling as certain blades struck her face. Brown hair and a simple face helped her blend in with the crowds. So she never received too much unwanted attention. The only thing truly remarkable about her was the color of her eyes. An easy brown encircling her pupil, with a striking emerald to match. Without a doubt, the colors independently separated on her iris were much more stunning then having them mixed completely together. Looking around, she quickly forgot about her game with the grass and continued to watch her sister from afar.

The bandits greedily huddled around the perimeter of the village, still concealed by the shadows. Peering over their masks, they watched the town hungrily. Each slowly pulled out their weapons. Daggers, broadswords and bows were by far the most popular. Though, a few held strange staffs, tipped with a red gem. A lone raider stepped forward, possibly the leader of the group. With a quick hand signal forward, the group approached. Not a single war cry was made, or a scream as the first throat was slit. Only silence, as they continued their stalking.

For the first few minutes, over half the town had been murdered and no one had even realized what was happening. The organized raid would have been a complete slaughter, if it weren't for the group of children, playing unnoticed in the background. A shrill scream came from one the boys, as he watched his mother's throat be slit, as she watching the pan on the stove intently. In response to the noise, a dagger came out of nowhere, and drove itself into the boy's fragile chest.

The thrower of the knife came out of hiding and kicked the boy down with her boot. Quirking a brow, she smiled wickedly as the group of children huddled together, crying and screaming for their parents.

"Don't worry. You'll be seeing your parents, right after I'm done." The woman in leathers growled. Unsheathing a broadsword, she began to approach the kids.

Quiet whimpers waved through the children, as she picked off another boy. This time slicing the dagger across his thigh. Hollering for assistance, he flailed his arms around, even turning back to his friends, his watery eyes pleading for aid. His efforts were in vain however, and the bandit quickly finished him off. Her sword now bloodied, she pointed it forward, aimed at the blonde girl. It seemed as if the raider were about to say something, but was cut off by war cry, coming from the center of the village.

A man, well built and toned, charged forward. He wore only a flimsy chain shirt, appearing as though he only gave himself a few seconds to prepare. Though his huge two-handed sword was by far more intimidating. Breathing heavily, having only just woken up, he continued to yell, though he already had the attention of every armed bandit in the vicinity. Waving his sword, he casted a worried glance at the children, hoping to draw the attention away from them. So they could escape.

Before the brave warrior, could even get into good swinging distance of the woman, three arrows, lodged themselves into his back. Groaning in pain, he continued forward, though now he carried a very severe limp. Bringing his sword up into the air, he swung down.

With the reflexes of a cat, the bandit rolled forward, easily dodging the clumsy blow. Pivoting to the right, the woman drove her sword into the man's stomach. Her momentum bringing the blade almost all the way through the flesh. Falling forward, the man gasped for breath, blood already flowing freely from the fatal wound. Glancing forward, he gave one last desperate look at the children. Especially, the two girls, who now screamed madly, having just seen their father beaten.

However, with the silence of an owl, a woman ran forward. A holy shield surrounding her body, she rushed passed the fallen man. A barrage of tears falling down her face. But, she continued forward and she bent down to pick up as many of the children as she could. Ushering the others forward, they started to make their way away from the village.

Luckily, the rest of the villagers realized what was happening and quickly armed themselves with whatever they could find. Pitchforks, kitchen knifes, even broomsticks. They fought valiantly, for their lives. For a moment, things seemed to be leaning in their favour. The raiders seemed shocked at the defiance the citizens held, knowing their fighting would be aggressive. But, the sentiment never lasted longer than those mere moments. The bandits had bows. Countless volleys rained down from the sky, a black cloud of death speeding down on the villagers.

There was no more resistance. Soon, the town had been mutilated, their supplies taken, and the bodies left to rot in the sun. The leader of the group, ordered his men to make a pile in the center of the town. Spitting out orders in a hurried frenzy. It wouldn't be long before the Stormwind patrols arrived.

Once the last corpse had been placed on the rotting pile, he pulled out a red cloth from his pouch. Throwing it on the top of the pile, he turned away. Without glancing back, he shifted once more into the shadows, closely followed by his followers. Not a single death or even slight injury weighing them down.