Disclaimer: I don't own Warcraft lore or any crap, nor most of these characters.

Author's Notes: This is my first fanfic, and it's safe to say that I had a history of writing Warcraft. Specifically about the grizzled veterans that they never mention, like the grim soldiers of the 7th Legion and the war-torn veterans from Hyjal.

If you're a total lore fanatic, then I suggest you might want to turn away, because -hint hint- some things will change DRASTICALLY within the history books.

Warning: This will contain various elements of violence contained within the battle scenes. This is not exactly for the squeamish. Might be changed (if I can) M or something, depending on how violent it gets.

Again, this is my first fanfic. Reviews with tips would be helpful.

INTRODUCTION

How he hated the boring routine in the maddening place known as 'Brill'. Located just right outside of the Capital, yet no action, gossip or whatsoever. Falric, his name was. He craved for adventure, action and a sense of purpose like it was an unexplained drug.

"Falric, where are you?" His mother, old yet caring, pierced the air from the farmhouse with a melodic voice. He shook his head, destroying his fantasies that he would experience in the fields. What was he doing? Oh, I'm supposed to clear the weeds. He literally cringed at 'clear the weeds'. His head began to slowly rise from his knee, intaking the surroundings. Green that literally appeared to disperse over a wide field of area completed with the ocassional flower that added the cherry on top.

He loved it, going with his friends to the green at the early morning when the sun was young, playing what they called 'knights' till the said sun retreated to let the moon take over its duties.

"Falric, don't tell me you've spent your time dreaming about some ludicrous place!" His mother began to stamp through the grass, causing audiable 'pat' noises from her boots.

He turned his head quickly to face the woman coming to him. "I-I didn't, I swear!" He threw his hands up in innocence and slowly turned his lips onto a frown.

Her mother simply gave an audiable sigh and laid a hand on his matted blonde locks, rubbing it in a companionable manner and slowly opened her mouth. "My dear Falric, tell me of what you are dreaming." She gave a motherly smile. "Please tell me."

Falric could only nod slowly, his brown eyes locked with her identical. "Mother, will you make me your best pie?" His face nearly gleamed with light when his frown turned upside down. His lips were immediately shot off when her mother simply grinned. "If you help me pick the ingredients."

He gave a haughty 'fine' and crossed his arms. "Would you still like to hear my dreams?" He said with a raised brow.

The woman crouched down onto the grass and then drew her legs crossed, her eyes wide like small plates. "Quickly now." She said sternly, waving a hand.

He sighed and drew in a deep breath.

I arrived to somewhere else, although much like the fields of Brill in it's beauty. However, the people weren't human, elf or dwarf, they were completely different. Little blue-skinned beings with long noses that offered me praise, comfort and well-being, they were like instant friends to a traveller or a newcomer.

The field that they made their dwellings was green with rolling hills and the blooming flowers were present. The sun was sky-high, it offered all the warmth one could be content with. The clouds puffed the azure sky as a perfect condiment to the taste. It was all serene, all perfect, but a threat lurked from within, and every inhabitant learned to fear it right from birth.

They told me about this dreaded legend, the populace called him the 'Dread-walker'; he was perfectly asymmetrical to the empathetic beings. A pale skin that was a sickly feeling to touch, horns that peaked from his head and made him seem taller, crooked nose that smelt all sorts of fear and discomfort and a garb of fabrics that contained numerical unholy properties within its weaving.

At first, my heart was stricken with a pang of fear and sorrow, but a large part of it also hoped for its ending from the walking, breathing land with a searing fury-of-a-righteousness driving the cause. I did what they never could, show my defiance openly. They at first called me a mad boy outright, but they agreed to help in discreet reluctantly by supplying me tools.

I was dressed, head to toe in their finest armour, it was gleaming metal that made my eyes betray my expectations, not only that it was strong, but they also they said about the magical properties of the armour, about the resistance against the shadow magic used by the monster.

The sword that my hands wrapped around was the first of its kind. Never a masterpiece of cutting steel to stand as an extraction of mutilated souls, to cleave those who want to hurt others and put them to the dust.

Unfortunately, the commotion was quickly noticed. The Dread-walker made its dramatic appearance by teleporting infront of me, scattering the populace to naught but a rabble of fear-touched people. My heart rammed against my ribcage as I stared down the beast, his black pupils locked with mine with a sadistic grin plastered on his face. The stalemate broke as the monster brought his two hands forward, being armed with some sort of gauntlet.

Energies rippled from his hands and lurched quickly towards me, I jumped out of the way and threw my sword with all my might, with my eyes closed, shielded from the horror that tried to maim me.

And what I saw, was light before my closed eyes.

A cheer that released my heart from it's beating oblivion and all my body went lazy against my concious will. I slowly opened my eyes, and a fallen beast with a sword sticking out of its body greeted me. It wasn't a horrific sight, it was a welcoming sight that made everyone around me relieved of some heavy burden shown through their blissful dance and whoops.

A soft hand laid on Falric's shoulder quickly broke his trance.

"Eh, what?" His voice was rather elementary to this new world that opened before him. His mother waved a hand and patted her stomach. "Are you hungry?" She raised an eyebrow with an intrigued smirk tugging at the corner of her lips and slowly rose up to tower before the boy.

"You're good, mother, very good at making others work." He gave a sigh and gingerly reached out a hand.