This is an 'in progress' storyline set in Warcraft's world of Azeroth. Many of the locations will be original and set in a much bigger variation of Azeroth than of that seen in World of Warcraft. Most of the characters will be original, with several Warcraft characters making an appearance. The story assumes the reader is at least a little familiar with the Warcraft universe. Thankyou for taking the time to read my story, I hope you enjoy it.
PROLOGUE
Catalyst
Silverpine Forest
Eastern Azeroth, Lordaeron.
As most travellers that brave the decrepit depths of the hallowed Silverpine forest will attest, it's never really possible to tell whether it's the middle of the day or the brink of nightfall. An apparent mantle of eternal darkness blankets the haunted woodland, offering the Forsaken that reside there a coveted environment to dwell in. However there is one other type of creature that thrives in such conditions, a hybrid of twisted morals and guided by a sense of vengeance-driven obligation. Though arisen from a caste of similarly-minded individuals, this particular specimen has endured hardships and experiences that would drive most equals to despair or even corruption.
Silently a shrouded figure approached one of Silverpine's many derelict structures. It was a looming cathedral of sorts, very rustic in design and clearly suffering from many years of neglect. The stone was brittle and overgrown with weeds and the windows were either boarded up or left broken as a reminder of the forests unforgiving nature. The mess of trees and shrubbery helped to mask the stranger's approach, however the complete lack of any sound as they navigated the branch-ridden grass was a testament to their experience in that particular regard. Very typical for an agent of this practice, the intruder wore a long hooded cloak that covered every inch of their body leaving the size of their frame as the only giveaway to their appearance. He or she was tall in stature and clearly Elven considering the protruding ears that reached skyward from beneath the hood. Though their profession could clearly have been anything, the almost-expert manner in which they silently advanced upon the cathedral betrayed their vocation as a Rogue of sorts.
It was immediately clear to the Elf that the dilapidated building had seen recent use, and could in fact still harbour... unsavoury types. Entering the structure would not be a problem, however what could be waiting inside was definitely a source of concern. The closest of the broken windows provided a possible vantage point to scout the interior and so the Rogue quietly attempted to scale the wall below it. As had been determined from a distance the stone was fragile and under-maintained, chipping away in clumps as it seemingly struggled to hold the weight upon it. After a little difficulty the hooded figure finally grasped the window sill and managed to pull the remainder of their lithe body into the gap. Calmly they pressed their back to one side of the frame and leaned into the hallway beyond, catching a glimpse of several robed figures disappearing into an adjacent room at the opposite end.
Within the cathedrals central chamber stood a large gathering of identically-dressed acolytes. The room was in ruins, strewn with various piles of masonry and the occasional fallen statue. The stone columns that supported the roof had long since abandoned their purpose and crumbled, poetically mirroring the state of the decaying walls. Moonlight pierced the room from the various openings in the ceiling, bathing the entire area in an eerie pale glow. In the centre stood before a waist-high altar was a lone hooded cultist, addressing his fellow worshipers with an ancient tongue not heard in decades. It was a spine-chilling sermon, a demonstration definitely not one for the faint of heart. After a rather heated section of the oration, the leader gestured for several of his followers to bring forth a prisoner. The stealthy Elven intruder managed to slip into the crowd during the act and watched intently as the ceremony unfolded. The captive was dragged into the chamber by his arms and from the looks of his battered body had seen better days.
Taking advantage the commotion, the Rogue began inspecting the robed figures for visible weapons. Predictably they were all similarly armed with small daggers or short swords – nothing particularly special but threatening in such large numbers. Steadily the interloper pressed through the crowd purposefully moving slow to avoid attracting attention, whilst keeping their eye on the perimeter of the room. Very few exits meant a lack of options should things go wrong.
Suddenly the ritual came to a standstill and the cultist leader drew his blade. It was immediately obvious to the furtive intruder that the acolytes intended to spill some blood and leaving no chance up to fate began pushing to the front of the crowd. As the ceremonial sword reached its pinnacle above its wielders head, the Elven assassin burst from the congregation and tore away their cloak. The dull-coloured garment fluttered to the dusty floor leaving behind the nimble figure of a blonde female Sin'dorei. Her outfit was very provisional, held together with straps and buckles and leaving no protection for her bare arms. A long, tattered dark red cloak draped toward her ankles and her hands were scarcely covered with a pair of crude fingerless gloves. Even for a Rogue her attire was underwhelming.
With remarkable fluidity she tore away a crudely-assembled shotgun slung over her right shoulder and aimed it at the lead cultist. Anticipating an intervention from the assailants to her rear, she quickly drew a long blade from over her left shoulder and poised it directly at them. For what must have seemed like several minutes the entire room fell silent in confusion.
"What... what is the meaning of..." Sputtered the acolyte in charge, before being promptly cut off by the female intruder.
"He comes with me." She ordered, nodding downward at the kneeling hostage.
The cultist stared for several moments as if he was gauging the sincerity of the demand. Realising the odds were clearly in his favour he smirked and shook his head.
"I don't think so."
Without so much as a pause, the Blood Elf lowered her gun and pointed it at the prisoner. She gave the cultist another glance and raised her eyebrows in anticipation of his response. Knowing full well how this ceremony worked, she gave the cowering hostage a swift kick and ordered him to his feet. As soon as his legs straightened out she flipped the sword over her palm and brought it to his neck, taking him as a captive of her own. Slowly she began backing away and made for the closest exit, keeping her eyes and firearm pointed firmly at the crowd.
Once the pair had slipped into the adjacent corridor and out of sight, the prisoner was allowed the freedom to remove the hood placed over his head. Quickly he tore away the cover revealing his rugged-Sin'dorei features. His hair was long and a light shade of black and his face was rather handsome even for an Elf. Immediately he turned to his 'rescuer' in the hope of recognising who she was, but her appearance was far from familiar to him.
"Who... who are you?" He asked in a panicked state. His hands were shaking and his voice trembled.
The woman had no time for introductions and replaced the shotgun over her shoulder before turning to leave the cathedral. Her hopes of an easy escape were shattered however as a group of cultists appeared down the hallway and cut them off. She also knew the group behind her would waste no time in the pursuit.
"Dammit..." She mumbled as she tightened her grip on the crude blade.
Calmly she scanned the corridor for an opportunity but all the windows were boarded and the debris offered no cover should the fight turn to spell casting. However that gave her an idea.
"How is your magic?" She asked her quivering accomplice, unsure if he could even be relied on to stay calm.
"Magic...?" He asked in surprise. "...I don't know magic!"
The assassin rolled her eyes in disappointment and returned her attention to the entourage ahead. There were five of them in all and she had to admit open combat was not exactly her forte – especially with a whimpering hostage in tow.
"Listen to me..." She demanded in a stern tone, "...you know how to cast magic. Think hard..."
The hooded acolytes drew their small blades and began advancing. The situation for the two Elves was growing more dangerous by the second and to make it worse they could hear approaching footsteps from behind.
"Shadow magic..." The woman continued, "Think about it. You know this."
Confused, the dark-haired escapee began examining his shaking hands. The unbelievable claims from this rogue were almost alien to him, never had he even thought of using magic before – the sheer danger alone was enough to put him off. He could hardly concentrate as the surrounding peril almost reached its' undoubtedly bloody finale. The assassin lowered her gaze slightly and tensed herself for what was about to come, it was simply a matter of kill or be killed and the odds were well against her.
"I liked you better when you were cast-happy..." She muttered and braced herself.
Frantically the male Elf clutched his palms and squeezed with all his might, attempting a scream between his clenched teeth. As if by mere chance or an ironic gift of the gods, his fists burst into green flame. Without even opening his eyes he released the caged scream from within his mouth and forced his arms forward, unleashing an intense barrage of shadow bolt magic. The acolytes were torn from the ground and blown in several directions amidst a haze of dark energy, the slaughter was glorious. The last of the flailing bodies hit a nearby wall and slumped to the floor as the amnesiac warlock opened his eyes. The sight of such carnage almost forced him into shock and he may have lost his footing had his companion not grasped his shoulder to support him.
"Wh... did I...?"
It was clear his mental situation had only gotten worse but at the very least the path was clear now. Crudely the woman pushed him forward and set off in a light sprint of her own; it wasn't over yet.