It was a grubby little town, much like any other on this side of the mountains.
The young priestess sought shelter from the rain in an inn, together with several other members of the Alliance. She talked to no one, but listened.
She was good at listening, that was what she had been taught by her old and blind trainer; listening, and keeping your mouth shut until there was something worth saying. She wasn't always good at living by it.
Beatrix had always had a natural talent for magic, and her kind and gentle manner had early on marked her as a good candidate for the priest class. She was small by growth, fragile by nature and spoke with a tender voice. It was in her opinion very important to uphold a fine appearance, so she dressed in bright robes and even painted her nails a pearly white.
When the rain stopped she left the inn, glad to be out in the fresh air again since the house had been as grubby and stuffed as the rest of the village's buildings.
There was a fair camped outside the village, seeking to lighten the minds of the villagers and the soldiers of the Alliance, as well as their purses.
Beatrix smiled as she walked between the stalls, looking at whatever the travelling dealers could offer. There were jewellery, weapons, food, strange and exotic plants and animals, and a many things she never even dared guess what was for.
Then the voice of a man she had noticed earlier in the inn made her turn and stare.
His gleaming armour and brilliant blue cape with the Alliance lionhead-crest on made him stand out in this dirty and generally brown-clad crowd. A small sigh escaped the priestess' lips as the paladin winked to her, or at least in her general direction.
She even knew his name; Darren "Orcwrangler" Stronguard. The reason for the nickname she would not even consider guessing at, it just seemed a right title for a paladin with such a gleam to him.
Right now he was telling everyone who would listen, which was quite a crowd, of his latest meeting with the Horde scum, and how he had been told there was a rather large sum for whoever could deliver his head to the warchief.
Beatrix listened to his stories for a little while, and when his little party of friend turned back to the inn she found herself automatically following them. The night was falling, a soft and moonlit night, as made for romance and tales of great deeds.
Darren Stronguard and his party stopped by the stables to cheek that their horses got the best looking-after the little town could offer. Beatrix stood a little away from them, leaning against a wall and feeling slightly silly. In the chilly shade of the building she decided to walk back to the inn on her own, when something moved in the corner of her eye.
She wasn't the only one who had seen it, the paladin had not become famous because he liked to brag, well, not just because he liked to brag. He had really done great deeds and was always ready to draw his big and, above all; shiny sword and face any foe.
Once more the shadows around the stables moved, this time revealing several enemies. As the paladin and his friends countered the attack there was a shout from the forest and suddenly the place swarmed with Hordes.
Beatrix had not been in many battles yet, but she had learned a little about the races of the Horde when she was a student. Orcs were easy to spot, same with the tauren and trolls. She recognised the burning glow in the eyes of the beautiful blood elves, and she had seen undead people before.
The enemies were many, and she was both nervous and excited as she cast her healing spell on a human warrior who looked like he needed it. The next second a blood elf had shouted something and pointed a lance in her direction. She did not need much imagination to understand this meant: "Healer! Take her out."
Readying for the attack, Beatrix took two steps back and had the words of her shielding spell on her lips as she backed into something. There was a sound so small she would not have heard it if she had not at the same time felt the dagger that was placed against her throat.
In front of her the paladin and his team were struggling and shouting desperately. Their own healer was at the ground, blooded fingers clutching his throat.
Telling herself to be brave, and knowing she would be killed either way, Beatrix raised her hands to at least give the other priest a chance at keeping his friends alive.
Before she had the time to cast the spell she was slammed into the wall. Her eyes were drawn to the knife that had been at her throat a second ago, but now stood in the wall just inches from her head. The arm holding the knife squeezed against her throat, it felt sharp and thin beneath the black clothes of the rogue.
"This is not your fight," a slightly muffled voice hissed. "Stay out of it."
Beatrix forced her eyes from the blade and looked into the blackness of a hood. Two glowing eyes looked back at her and the strange smell of old dust and decay filled her senses. She made a small squeak when realising the creature holding her was no longer alive.
In fear of what she might see she cast a simple light-spell, for he had done no attempt of restraining her hands. The light flashed, revealing nothing more than a black mask over the rogue's mouth and nose, as well as two surprised, glowing eyes. The rest of the visible face was dominated by a thin scar that began somewhere under the mask, crossed the ridge of the nose and disappeared into dark strands of hair. The greyish cloak he was wearing faded into the shadow as the priestess' light died out.
Beatrix' eyes fell on something happening behind the rogue and she opened her mouth to scream. Over the undead's shoulder she could see Darren Stronguard, or at least his body, lying on the ground. There was a chorus of cheering from the Horde as an orc lifted the paladin's head high in the air, and then the enemies disappeared into the darkness again.
Beatrix felt her body turn limp and cold. Tears were streaming down her face as the rogue raised the hand holding the knife and brought it down in a swift stroke.

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Here is chapter one of my new story. Most of it thus far is finished. I just have to have the bother to upload it ^^

Reason for the story; Someone told me there was no way in Hell I could make a undead cute. I will prove them wrong as this story develops ;) So there ^^

Take away all the UnNatural spaces and go here to see my sucky sketches of the rogue:

ht tp:// luvalentine. deviantart. com/ art/ Valente-Sketches- 130851370