Chapter 1
Rog'kar
It was a peaceful afternoon. The dandelion's carried gracefully by the wind floated ever freely down the riverbank until they caught the sun's gaze and glinted softly before disappearing into the undergrowth of the woods. The gloriously golden leaves from the trees above us danced in the wind, serenaded by the birds who sang sweetly to the tune of the softly pulsating magic that seemed to ooze out from the earth itself.
Metres from us, a mother rabbit and her young sat, nibbling of the vibrant green grass. A springpaw, prowled amongst the reeds, stalked the rabbits. Spotting this, I rose to my feet and drew my bow. Lacing an arrow into the shaft, I crouched in a firing position and waited for my shot.
"Hold, breathe and concentrate," Evelyn whispered.
"I know. By now, this has really become as much part of my routine as breathing or sleeping." I replied, closing one eye and lining up the shot.
"Vel! Talking so profoundly is not concentrating!"
"Yes, my love, I know."
With a gentle snarl the beast came bounding out of the reeds towards the rabbit and her young, and as if in tune with nature herself, I released the bow string and watching as the mighty springpaw fell not two metres from its hiding position among the reeds. By this stage, the young mother was petrified to the point of frantic, and her young hid shaking underneath her. "You know what to do Vel," Evelyn said. "Soothe the beasts."
I closed my eyes and began breathing deeply, pictures of playful beasts and their masters running through my head. I opened my eyes and with an out-stretched hand exhaled, causing sombre bluish light to stream from my hands and encompass the frantic critters. Rhythmically I pulled away my hand and as the magic danced and swayed majestically around the rabbits, curing them of their worries. With a sharp shake of the head, the mother rabbit examined her surroundings then hopped away, young hopping playfully behind her. "Very well done, love," Evelyn said.
"Centuries have passed and it remains as it always has, I still slay the beasts that trouble the land, I still run errands for the Silvermoon Guards, and I'm still married to the most beautiful elf in all of Quel'thalas." I sighed.
"You say that with a sigh, is something troubling you?"
"Routines, patterns, schedules. I am the victim of an ever structuring world, which at least the humans have a limit to."
"What's the matter with order? What's the matter with structure or scheduling?"
"Nothing my love. I only tire of hearing of the vast accomplishments of my siblings. Venrok, the reverent priest; Aldoral, the vengeful paladin; and Lauriel, the grand arcanists that, if you have not heard, is due for another commendation from Dalaran."
"Velorel..." She murmured. "You are as, if not greater than your elders. Your duties protect all those of Eversong. We are all proud of you."
"I wish you would stop comparing yourself to those...people." She scoffed. "Horrid and pompous, as bad as the so called 'nobles' of Stormwind," she said as a tear drop angrily beaded in the corner of her eye.
I lay on the grass and watched the clouds roll across the sky over the sea. My hand gently caressed Evelyn's soft, blonde hair while she slept. The sky, almost unrealistically, was water coloured with shade of pink and slowly faded to the opposite horizon to a deep blue. The moon propped over the hills glancing at the quieter, sleeping world. This further illuminated her soft features, including her quivering lips. "Oh, she must be cold," I muttered to myself whilst dragging a wolf skin out of my runecloth satchel. I delicately draped her body with the pelt and rose to my feet. I looked around sheepishly, spotting dozens of tenders sleeping in the moonlight. A twisted smile wrapped around my face as the idea came to me. Perhaps I should make a fire.
She awoke to the smell of roasted springpaw which I had hunted and cooked for her awakening. It was still dark, just a few hours after midnight, the fire quietly crackled as over-eager mosquitoes became too friendly with the flame.
"My love?" She spoke with a sleepy and exhausted under-tone, looking around through hazy eyes.
"Right here," I said, emerging from behind the fire. Her eyes were glowing orange, rather than their usual bright hue of green. "I know it's not your favourite meal, but I imagine that you're hungry enough even to eat a tauren if properly cooked, "I chuckled.
She giggled. "It is fine. Never has there been a more wonderful husband," she yawned.
"Eat a little, and then return to your slumber. The sun has not yet risen. There is much sleep to be had before the new day begins."
"How very formally put," she smiled. "Very well, sleep I will."
I to desired time of rest, but it was out of the question. While ever Evelyn rested in the wilds, I did not. I maintained the fire and practiced my archery. Though this was a meagre task given my centuries using the same bow and the same arrows, I dreamed of the day when I too would venture beyond the boundaries of Eversong, and journey deep into mysterious lands. I longed to venture deep into the demon lands, and for the narrow escapes from Alliance patrols. The conquering of dungeons and their masters, and countless riches I would come across.
The next morning, Evelyn awoke to the sound of a conversation I was having with an orcish adventurer. He was large, a dark browny-green colour with long plaited hair and with only one fang protruding from his mouth.
"But elf, you hafta' know the way to Tranquillien," the orc said.
"Certainly, but I must not stray from my post here in Eversong, the Ranger-General would demote me."
"Come on elf. You know that you owe my people a solid," he grunted.
"But, you see, the Farstrider's code is-"
"Farstriders?"
"Oh, I apologise. The Farstriders are-"
"I know them elf. If you can't lead me to Tranquillien, could you have it arranged for me to be escorted?" He said in a very hostile tone.
"Why yes, but I would have to requisition a scout and he would take at least 24 hours to arrive from Silvermoon," I said, trying to be as polite to the monstrous orc.
"24 hours!?"
"What's the matter Vel?" Evelyn said from her position beside the smouldering embers that once formed the fire. "Who is this?"
"Rog'kar, an orcish shaman from Durotar," I said quickly, cutting off any chance of the orc answering himself.
"Charmed, Rog'kar, I am Evelyn Windwhisper, Head Mage instructor of the Eversong Woods."
"Good ta' meet ya" Rog'kar said in that delightful drawl of his. "Who's this nancy milady? He barely looks capable of holding a weapon, let alone working for the Farstriders."
"I am a Farstrider," I mumbled to myself.
"This nancy is my husband. Velorel Windwhisper, member of the Farstrider's Guild and Guardian of Beasts within the boundaries of Eversong."
I cast my mental query upon my wife. Guardian of Beasts? I queried.
I do not apologise my love, not an elf, nor may an orc insult my husband. It does sound impressive though, doesn't it? She was truly a wonderful wife.
"Guardian of Beasts eh?" Rog'kar muttered. "A powerful title, let's see if that title holds any water against an orc," he quite rapidly and aggressively leapt to the side and released a stream of lightning towards me. Without thinking, I combat-rolled to avoid it and crouched in a defensive pose ready for the next attack. The earth rumbled as if an earthquake was imminent as he leaned back and thrust his fist as if punching at thin-air, but I could feel the impact coming. I hastily drew my daggers to deflect it, but it was followed up by an aggressive charge which knocked me harshly to the ground. I spun around legs kicking in the air until I became airborne up to my feet, feeling contact as I did. The orc grunted and jumped back. "Ha! I knew you had some fight in you!" He shouted.
I leapt into the air as he shot several lightning bolts towards me, each narrowly missing. I fired a hail of arrows at him each arrow deflected by large stones which hovered around him.
Evelyn sat there relatively calmly, and enjoyed the fight. He sprinted toward me with his battle axes drawn; I easily dispatched him by crouching and flipping him over my body and down to the ground with a thud. With bow armed and ready, I stood over him aiming. "I yield! I yield!" He said in a panicking tone. "Bested by a nancy boy, how shameful."
"A nancy boy?" I released the arrow and it hit little more than a centimetre away from his pierced ear.
"Well done, Vel," Evelyn said, kissing my cheek.
"Such a rush! It has been decades since I last fought on equal footing with an opponent!" I said, glee shining clearly on my face.
"Decades? But elf, the Scourge invaded not 5 years ago."
A look of horror grew upon Evelyn's face; she quickly turned to me and instantly froze me solid. "Listen carefully orc, if you ever mention the invasion to my husband again without him starting the conversation, you can guess who the next one sealed in ice will be," Evelyn said, in a dark and profusely hostile tone. "And you can bet on that I will never unfreeze you. Are we clear on that?"
"Y-yes ma'am," Rog'kar replied, obviously scared out of his mind. Evelyn then unfroze me and shouted "Ignarus!"
I came to my senses and was unaware of what was happening. "Evelyn? What's going on?" I said in an admittedly stupid tone.
"Nothing darling, immediately after your combat with Rog'kar he called for a rematch and struck you from behind."
"But I didn't-" Rog'kar interjected.
"Very well, no harm done," I said smiling proudly at my accomplished duel and with an orc no less. "You know what Rog'kar? I might just escort you to Tranquillien, and then I might join you on your journey, at least until I have sated the wanderer inside of me."
"But I don't want to travel with an-"
"He'd love that," Evelyn interrupted, glaring deeply into the orc's eyes.
"Umm, yeah, I would like that?" Rog'kar said, dumb-founded by the apparent nature of such a beauty.
"Joyous! I must report to the lodge immediately to tell them the good news!" I said, sprinting off passed tenders up the mountain ridge. I envisioned the cheetah, which enabled my movement speed to greatly increase; it took me little more than an hour to reach the lodge.
"Very well, Velorel Windwhisper, you are granted the Farstrider's Guild's blessing for your journey with the orc known as 'Rog'kar', and for Farstrider Illoran to guard your household until the time of your return," the Farstrider said.
"May the light be with you," a low rank priest said.
"And also with you," I replied.
Chapter 2
Tranquillien
We had been travelling south for the better part of a day and still hadn't left the boundaries of Eversong Woods. At the site of every new beast of plant, Rog'kar insisted on stopping and fully examining it. Every 10 minutes or so, I would have to pause to the call of "Elf! Elf! Look at this!" I was happy enough to explain to him any part of my homeland that interested him so. It was late afternoon and coming on dusk when we spotted the bridge which led into The Ghostlands. A forsaken female stood outside a building just near the border, so we built a fire adjacent to the building and slept there for the night. Now, at this time, I had only known Rog'kar for less than a day, but I still felt there was a strong bond between us that was formed solidly on the foundation of mutual respect.
"Elf! Elf! Wake up nancy boy!" Rog'kar grunted just after midnight.
"Huh-uhhn. What's going on?"
"Get your skinny body over there and stand guard."
"Why don't you? I think I feel relatively safe here you monstrous oaf."
"Even this late at night and your still talk like a nancy boy," he scoffed. "You know these lands, go stand guard!"
"There are guards not 10 metres from you."
"Where? I don't see any!"
"Watch." I crawled over to the path a picked up a stone and threw it across the road until it made contact with a magic shield which softly rippled under the impact. "Go back to sleep."
He snorted. "Bah, no point. I'll never get back to sleep now."
I would have.
" Let's make an early start for Tranquillien."
I don't think he quite understands the Ghostlands all that well. "You can't just go walking through the Ghostlands at night. Only fools, ghouls and uhh, well; only fools and ghouls walk the lands at night." Damn, I'm not quite the poet I thought I was. Hopefully he hadn't picked up on that though.
"Why poet boy? You scared?" Damn, he had.
"Not scared, just intelligent."
Zing, hopefully that hurt him more than his jeer had stung me.
"You're just an intelligent nancy poet pretty boy who doesn't want to mess up his hair, am I right?" His language skills were by no means as intricate as my own, but he sure knew how to belittle someone.
"Very well orc. Let us pack our camp and begin into the Ghostlands, at night, if you so choose."
I can't believe I let him convince me to do this. It's not just a matter of looking tough in front of one of the more brutal races, but now, I would actually have to prove it in the dark forests of the Ghostlands. It wasn't just the undead that I was afraid of, but the things that the undead could do. I mean, I certainly didn't want to be bitten and become one of the mindless monsters, nor did I want to be slain and then raised as one of a collection of monstrosities that was also possible.
We trekked for about two hours and after constant suggestions from the both of our stomachs we decided to take a quick meal break. Rog'kar was showing his obliviousness by examining every plant he came across. But that's something I like about Rog'kar, his 'what's the worst that could happen' attitude.
He stumbled across a dying lynx and I could see it in his eyes. The only thing he was thinking was, dinner.
As I saw him reach for his carving knife I only had brief seconds to fully analyse the specimen for possible signs of the plague. "Mmmm, this is just what I've been lookin' for!" Rog'kar said, practically drooling. I scanned the body and on its right shoulder I saw the green discolouration of death.
"Rog'kar-" but there was no time for this. I whipped out my bow and laced it (nobody with a telescope could have seen it) and released both a stun and a freezing arrow.
Now let me sidebar for a moment here. I know not every Farstrider is allowed to travel the world, so therefore they must see something in my abilities that up until this moment I couldn't. But after this demonstration, I think they should appoint me Ranger-General should Lor'themar pass.
I hurried over to the lynx and focused my energy on the tinge of green on its shoulder. Breathing deeply, I imagined the lynx before me as a cub playing with its siblings. I could see the playful games and wrestling as if I were standing and observing them. I released one final breath and looked down at the lynx now gnawing on my boot. "Peace be with you beast of the wilds." The lynx let out a soft, lethargic growl. "Your strength is not yet returned. Be still until you've rested." By this time I could hear Rog'kar grimacing and groaning while he tried to free himself from the ice. He had a look of absolute fury on his face, and murder in his eyes. I walked up close to the ice and slowly drew my bow and laced an arrow. With the largest smile I think I have ever felt. I aimed to bow directly at my Orcish ice sculpture. The groans became more frantic as I chuckled. Still smiling, I kicked the bottom of the ice with a steel-toed boot and it shattered. Rog'kar fell to the ground a shivering and whimpering mess.
It was dawn before Rog'kar wanted to travel again. I began to feel more comfortable in the dim morning light. The terrifying tales I've heard of vampires wandering the Thalassian woods at night will be driven off by the rising sun. So I found a sense of inner peace. In the distance I could see the village of Tranquillien, but I could hear something very disturbing bustling from the village. It was the cries and screams of women and children.
"Elf! What's happening up there?" Rog'kar grunted.
"Time to move orc, now!"
We both sprinted towards the village bypassing the fleeing townspeople. I drew my bow and waited for the imminent attack. I suspected it to be the Alliance pressing forward their territory from the Eastern Plaguelands. But I wasn't concerned about them. I've fought humans, dwarves, night elves, orcs and trolls, so I was sure Rog'kar and I could handle what Alliance there was. But upon arrival we found not hobbling humans or darting dwarves. No, upon arrival the main thing was the great necropolis of Acherus polluting the sky. Men lay dead with their weapons drawn, and villagers' bodies strewn across the fences like twisted Winter Veil decorations. I looked out across the landscape at the army of undead monsters, and worse still, twisted dark knights on horseback patrolling the once tranquil streets.
Chapter 3
Wayward Son
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I've heard stories of the grand necropolis Acherus. But never in all my life would I dream of seeing such a behemoth hovering above my homeland.
I grabbed my orcish comrade and dove into some nearby bushes. I was trying to fight back the tears but every man has his limit.
"What will we do now Vel?" Rog'kar said, with the most sincere tone I've ever heard an orc use.
"I will send word to the Ranger-General in Silvermoon. I will summon a hawk to us immediately." I said, letting out a silent whistle. From the east, a crimson bird dived in low to the ground and landed on a branch next to me. I hurriedly scribbled down the message of "impending invasion. Acherus looms over Ghostlands. Dark riders' horns blow presently" in both Thalassian and Orcish. No matter who received this intelligence would know to send help. I let out another silent whistle and the hawk ascended into the treetops and out of sight.
"This cannot be happening," I said turning to Rog'kar. Two Knights, a dwarf and a human, in front of us walked over to a nearby fence railing and leant against it. They were completely clad in some kind of metal armour; it was blue-black and had a terrifying sense about it.
"Not a challenge among these...elves," The human said to the dwarf.
"Aye, terrible hunting here," the dwarf said removing his helmet revealing his eyes so cold that they glowed with a lifeless blue flame.
"Where is Evorel? That damned elf boy shows us a potential resource sight and then toddles off and hides when the fighting starts. Even he could've handled this mob of weaklings," said the human, also removing his helm.
"Calm yourself laddy. You can't have the Highlord hearing you talk like that about one of his favourite snakes."
"Humph...regardless of his status with the Highlord, the wimp only chose this sight because he knew it had no defences left after his Highness washed over the land. Hell, he knows because he fought here, like a weakling, and died here, like a fool," the human said.
I froze. My son, Evorel. Could it possibly be my son the Elven traitor they were speaking of? I know for a fact that my son fought alongside the Dark Lady at the Elf Gate. His body was never found...and I was positive that he had been ghoul food. Does this mean Evorel has fallen into servitude of such a master?
"Elf! What are they talking about? I can't speak common," Rog'kar whispered.
"They're speaking of the battle plans." A lie, I'm sorry Rog'kar but I don't think you need know of my treacherous son. Though his servitude is involuntary, his dedication certainly is a trait that I gave him, that he has now used to eradicate his people, his family. "They plan to set up a camp here and move their operations and Acherus north to Eversong."
A mounted knight rode over and the others lined in formation in front of him. "Death Knights of Acherus, hear the call of the Highlord!" A bellowing roar came from the scores of knights, ghouls and geists that encircled him. "Tonight we rest, revive and reanimate those who have fallen. But tomorrow, we ride north and finish off what is left of the Elves that were spared by our Dark master." Another roar blasted the surrounding area and echoed off the mountains to the east.
I knew what needed to happen, I had to get back to Silvermoon and warn Lor'themar and the others, and I needed to get Evelyn flee to the Kalimdor. Without any words I took out some ink and some blank parchment and began scribing runes and rituals into the papers. "Elf, what're you-?" Rog'kar mumbled as I grabbed his arm. I placed an open hand on the paper and closed my eyes. Rog'kar looked confusingly at the paper as it began to illuminate. The runes I drew buzzed softly and with a quiet whoosh we were sitting on two bar stools at the inn in Falconwing Square. I cleared my throat and waited for a comment from Rog'kar.
"Damn."
"That's some fancy magic you got there Vel," Rog'kar said hailing the barkeeper.
" 'Twas nothing, you couldn't possibly think that an elf would be killed so inelegantly did you? Humph, my, my, an elf rounded up like sheep, cornered and harvested? Tsk, tsk."
"You're doing that nancy boy thing again elf. Don't make me regret calling you by your name earlier on."
He did to. Was that the first time? Either way, is this a sign of respect I see? Can I now truly call myself a citizen of the Horde? Oh, oh no. I just realised. I am allied with talking cattle, rotting corpses (no offense intended to the Dark Lady), tusked cannibals and green aberrations. The days were so much more formal when I could attend functions with finely dressed human nobles, listen to lengthy tales by dwarvan archaeologists and watch as a gnome accidentally exploded itself. Do I really wish to ally with these...people? My son certainly has no issues with his appearance to society by the company he is keeping.
Chapter 4
Redemption of Arathor
My fitful night's sleep since the discovery of Acherus and the Death Knights has dragged up a lot of unnerving emotions that I'm all too familiar with. I remember the same thing happening right before the last war, when Arthas and his legions of death washed over our land like a twisted tidal wave. My people strongly believe that the humans are to blame for the destruction of Quel'thalas. According to the nobles, the humans abandoned us and then attempted to execute the survivors for treason. I believe this to be a half-truth.
After a day's rest at Falconwing Square, Rog'kar and I were summoned to the Ranger-General's chamber to discuss what atrocities we witnessed in Tranquillien. I took Rog'kar to the tailor upstairs and paid for a full ensemble to be made for him. He could not present himself to Master Lor'themar dressed in wolf skin. An armed guard met us outside the inn and escorted us to the city. We reached the spire mid-morning. Guards lined the entrance to the spire, as always. The guards made a statement on the battlefield with their prowess and also in the halls of royalty with their style, each immaculately clad in gold and red. I ensured that Rog'kar would adorn himself in the finest mageweave of green and silver, which at the time he didn't know, but it is the symbol in Quel'thalas of subordination. Don't think he doesn't hate the fact that I dressed him so now. I chose the finest cuts of leather imported from the Hinterlands, dyed bright orange and black topped off with a headband with the Farstrider's crest on it.
The crowd gathering at the bottom of the spire looked up in amazement at the esteemed personnel being escorted to the Regent Lord of Quel'thalas. I smiled briefly and signalled the guards to continue. Now, the throne room was as impressive as ever. But I had been in here numerous times. Rog'kar on the other hand had not. He was gasping loudly and jerking his head around to observe all the tapestry and embroidery throughout the room.
"Kneel!" I whispered to Rog'kar once we met Lor'themar, Rommath and Halduron.