Dal'bin held his forearms out, blocking a punch thrown at him by his older sister, Jamesa. The child continued to block the blows thrown at him, taking a few steps backwards on the wooden hut floor. He had to focus on hearing her movements as she made them since he faced the setting sun, which was blinding him. At first, it was challenging, but under the tutelage of Mulwan over the years, he was starting to get use to it. The elderly troll trained the child ever since he was able to walk, following the orders of Dal'bin's father, Vukalai. He could hold his own in hand-to-hand combat and was starting to study various different weapons. He was raised to be a warrior, and a warrior he would be.

Backed up against the fence which protected him from dropping down onto the sandshore, Dal'bin started his assault with a kick thrown towards his sister's gut. Jamesa was pushed back and had to defend herself with her brother charging forward, not willing to give up. His first punch was blocked with her grabbing the fist but it only gave him the opportunity to kick her knee, almost having her fall down from the blow. She still stood, trying to use her grip on her brother to force him down but he was able to outmaneuver her, freeing his hand. While doing so, he hooked his left foot around her ankle and shoved his shoulder against her. The trip was successful, sending the siblings plummeting to the ground, but as he was expecting it, Dal'bin rolled back onto his feet quickly, not giving his sister a second glance.

"Dat be enough," a voice to their side called out. "Ya trainin' be over now."

Dal'bin turned to the voice, bowing in respect of the two trolls. Jamesa groaned in pain, getting onto her feet and joining her brother. To the right stood Mulwan, who had called for their training to end. He was short for a troll and hunched over, his age showing clearly with heavy wrinkles around his eyes and white hair that was falling out. He wore ragged robes and held onto his staff, using it to support himself. To their left was their father, a tall and lean troll in leather armor who grew out his bright red hair to his back, keeping it tied together with various braids. The children respected both of their mentors, thanking them for their teachings each day.

"Jamesa, ya need ta pick up da slack," their father told them. "Ya brother be three years younger an' already he showin' dat he is better."

"I will, father," Jamesa muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. "Ya know I be tryin' my best."

"Ya best may not be enough at times, but in da end, dat be all we can ask o' ya," Mulwan gave out a piece of wisdom as he was use to.

"Ya be wrong about dat, old friend," Vukalai shook his head. "Ya need ta give more dan ya best. Ya need ta push yaself ta ya very limits. An' dat be what I see in ya, Dal'bin. Keep up da good work, improve yaself, and one day, ya will become a shadow hunter, an' den, ya will brin' great honor ta ya family."

"I will not dissapoint ya, father," Dal'bin declared. "Dat will be who I am when I be older, a shadow hunter!"

X

Dal'bin opened his eyes, yawning while waking up. Thinking back on his dreams, he remembered how much of a dreamer he was when he was younger. To think that he once believed that he was going to one day be chosen by the loa to serve them as a shadow hunter was foolish. Still, he was as deadly as he was back when he was younger, if not more. His confidence remained as well, although he did not expressed it as much as he did before. He pushed the distant memory to the back of his mind, not wanting to dwell on old history. Mulwan taught him that the past and present do not matter, only the future, and that advice was what he would need to follow.

Dal'bin was currently in a dimly lit cave, towards the entrance of it. With the Vanguard currently needing to place to rest, the scout thought that this would work out well. He had encountered it previously on a mission to assassinate Brak'thur, a fel orc commander. Although he failed to kill the target, Dal'bin figured that it was a good chance to hide here. And sure enough, it was void of life, allowing for his comrades to claim it before getting some rest. He never told anyone of its significance, feeling that the others would question his well being. The troll admitted that he may have been off tracks for a while but was perfectly fine now.

"About time you woke up," a man spoke while Dal'bin stood up. "With the way you were thrashing around in your sleep, I figured it was only a matter of time until you were up and about. Granted, I thought you'd be visibly scared."

Leaning against the wall was Colben Sampson, the walking corpse that brought together the Vanguard. His skin was decayed and rotten much like the rest of the undead. He had a few scraps of hair on his scalp that were falling off and his yellow eyes kept a close watch over the entrance to the cave. Underneath his dark traveling clothes, he wore his old armor, which was in desperate need of maintenance to make it efficient once more.

Dal'bin was still struggling what to think of him. At their first meeting, Colben saved the scout from death by cauterizing his wounds. However, because of the trauma of the torture and with fire being his worst fear, the troll hated the veteran for saving his life and sought revenge. Even when the Vanguard was formed, he thought of his revenge, waiting for the opportunity. Then, Colben once more saved his life from an explosion, so Dal'bin was willing to let go of his misguided agenda. Still, even after that, he was not going to trust him, especially since he questioned the veteran's sanity.

"Just a bad dream, mon," Dal'bin shrugged. "Nothin' ta worry about."

"Well, I suppose you would have a bad dream with what happened to you here," Colben smirked. "Don't worry. I won't tell Oliktalv unless you want some terrible counseling attempt."

"Well, I don't want dat," Dal'bin told him. "Ya be needin' me, ya know. Da Vanguard has already lost plenty."

"Perhaps too much," Colben finally turned to the troll. "I'm doing the math in my head, and we only have five members. A damn shame about Gregory too. I was hoping to catch up with him once we were finished with the Fel Horde."

"Ya math be wron'," Dal'bin shook his head. "Gregory be dead an' Gotur betrayed us in favor o' da Horde. Dere be nine of us."

"Still five," Colben stood his ground. "Naur's not coming back. He may want to, but last we saw him, he was going to walk into a stronghold where he's wanted for treason. I expect that he'll be on his way back to Azeroth to stand trial in another week or so. And Belara wanting to scout out our path is just an excuse for her to leave us here. She's the cold kind of smart and probably knows the Vanguard is a sinking ship."

"Dey will both be back, mon," Dal'bin argued. "Belara be a traitor ta da Horde an'; has nowhere ta go. She needs us. An' Naur be da kind o' person who has a few tricks up his sleeve. Also, ya math still be wron'. That's seven."

"Balthar's a good lad, but good lads don't win wars, soldiers do," Colben continued on. "Even I wouldn't be able to make a warrior out of him, and I'm a damn good swordsman. And now, he's wanting to get into the whole priesthood business, but without Naur, he doesn't have a teacher. He's useless."

"Well, ya got a point with dat," Dal'bin admitted with a sigh. "Ya got one more."

"I never really cared for Salin, honestly," Colben shrugged, grinning. "Ten gold says he doesn't make it when we finally get to fight Illidan."

"I'll take dat bet," Dal'bin nodded. "I be havin' faith in Salin."

"Your loss of gold then," Colben laughed quietly. "Now, if only we could find more people foolish enough to join this suicidal band of adventurers, we may stand a decent chance."

Colben did have a point about the Vanguard being successful in their overall goal of defeating Illidan Stormrage. They were essentially going up against the ruler of a planet and they lacked numbers. Still, not counting Balthar, each member of their group was deadly in their own right. They had attacked Hellfire Citadel together and managed to cut the head off the Fel Horde while suffering only one fatal casualty. They managed to kill a pit lord without any lasting injuries. Still, Illidan was on a different level entirely, and they may not be enough to stop him.

Which, as Colben suggested, would be a good reason to start recruiting others to join their fight. They were wanted fugitives from the Alliance and Horde but there had to be other factions on Outland. If the veteran's depiction of the Betrayer as a ruthless tyrant was any accurate, then they were sure to find some group resisting him. They may even find allies among his own ranks that are being repressed. Perhaps they would be able to succeed after all.

"Now, enough talking," Colben rudely stated, interrupted Dal'bin's train of thought. "Get some sleep."

"I told Oliktalv dat I be keepin' watch for da night," Dal'bin told him.

"I got watch tonight," Colben countered. "Listen, there are certain benefits to being undead: I don't have to eat, I am ageless, I can slay anyone I want without a hint of remorse, but if I had to say the best one of all, it would be not having to sleep anymore. Do you know how much time I got now that I have all day instead of losing eight hours in bed?"

"Dere be some drawbacks ta ya condition as well," Dal'bin commented with a shrug. "Ya be all bones now. I be stronger dan yeah."

"Who needs to be strong when you got skill?" Colben grinned.

"I'm also skilled," Dal'bin argued.

"Can you do this?" Colben conjured a flame around his hand, not flinching as Dal'bin backed up against the cave wall in fear. "Still afraid, huh?"

"Put dat out now!" Dal'bin resisted the urge to act, afraid to get burnt by the veteran.

"Relax, I got it under control," Colben dispelled the flames with a wave of his hand. "Now, sleep. I don't want to take you out of the Vanguard members I consider useful, and I will if you're sleep deprived."

Dal'bin, relaxed after the flames vanished, slowly relaxed and sat down with a nod. Colben did have a point; he needed his sleep if he was going to help out the Vanguard. When they woke up, they need to march further west to avoid any forces sent to capture them for their treason, and the scout, being one of the two knowledgeable with the land, would needed to lead them. He always wanted to see the rest of this shattered world outside of Hellfire Peninsula, and now, he was given the chance to. Dal'bin slowly closed his eyes, and not long after, drifted into a restless sleep.

A/N: And the Vanguard makes its grand return!

I know that I promised that the sequel would come out sooner than now, but I realized that I needed a break. During that time, I was fortunate enough to draft out the story for Drowning Depths and have a good idea on how it will go. I can't say much, but I do plan on making one difference clear between Broken World and Drowning Depths. While the former was introducing the characters, the latter will expand on the character's development.

As always, I hope you enjoyed the story, and suggest that you follow it, myself, or leave a review if you feel the need to do any of that.

Until next time.