It felt like I had just nodded off after a particularly intense sparring session with my teacher when I heard loud noises from outside my townhouse. The house had belonged to my father though I had just recently begun using it. Orphaned at a young age, I actually grew up at Greymane manor, the home of our King and his son, like something between a servant and an honored guest. The king had apparently known my father, though I myself knew little beyond the name he left for me. But I digress.

Without bothering to put armor or even a jacket over my light cloth shirt, I stepped to the window, drawing back the heavy curtains and glancing out into the narrow, brick-and-stone streets of Gilneas City. My breath caught in my throat. The city was overrun with worgens! Half man, half wolf, they seemed to press in from everywhere, attacking the few guards I could see with striking claws. They stood on two legs and, though they all looked slightly different, they all shared powerful, heavily muscled physiques. Through the swarms of worgen and fleeing townsfolk, I caught sight of a person mounted on horseback – my dearest friend, Prince Liam Greymane.

I stuffed my feet in boots, and grabbed my sword from it's place on the floor near my bed, throwing it across my back before bolting outside. The city was floundering in chaos. I pushed my way through to the open, stone lined grassy square where Liam was fighting.

"My prince!" I called.

He pushed a worgen away and looked at me. The prince was a handsome man, strong, with short reddish hair and beard. His gray eyes regarded me quickly with surprise. "Shain! What are you doing here?" he demanded. "You need to get out of here!"

"No," I answered. "I'm not leaving you."

He sighed slightly, eying a group of three worgen stalking closer. "Fine. Then go pound on doors, get people to evacuate."

I nodded even though he wasn't looking. I could forgive him for being short with me, given the present circumstances. I drew my sword and dove into the crowds of worgen. There weren't quite so many here, not as many as I had first thought. I moved past the worgen, who seemed to pay me very little regard, and went to the first door, pounding on it. After several moment,s a person opened it, and came rushing out. This went on for some time, before people stopped answering the doors I knocked on. I returned to Liam.

"My father is near the east bridge. Go help him with the evacuation," Liam told me.

"What about you?" I asked.

"I'll be along in a bit, now go." I started to move away while there were few worgen around Liam's hand grabbed my wrist and I twisted around to look at him. He had a scratch drawn down his cheek, bleeding darkly against his pale skin. My stomach knotted. He looked like he wanted to say something, but after a moment, he sighed and released me. "Be careful."

I nodded slowly, wishing I knew what he had seemed to be close to saying. There was nothing for me to do, so I set off through the now dark, curving streets to find the king. Tall blocks of brick and wood townhouses pressed in around me. Howls echoed throughout the city. I kept my sword in hand as I ran. I wasn't a great warrior, but at this point, anything was better than nothing.

The king, along with one of his nobles Lord Godfrey, were on horseback up ahead of me. The king smiled when he saw me. "Shain."

I bowed slightly to him. "Your majesty. How may I help?"

He sighed. "Lord Darius Crowley has been called many things. Rebel. Traitor. Terrorist. Before the civil war I called him...friend. I never blamed him for leading an insurrection against me. His land and people were separated from Gilneas by a stone wall... but we had no choice. Regardless... Crowley is exactly the type of person we need now. Enter Stoneward Prison and ask Captain Broderick about Crowley's whereabouts. I'd send my own men, but there's still bad blood."

I nodded and began to walk away when a riding crop tapped my shoulder. I glanced back to find Godfrey looking down his nose at me, his circular glasses making his eyes bug-like. I raised my eyebrows at him, dipping my shoulder to slip away from the crop.

"Greymane wants to save Crowley? Has he gone mad?" I just frowned at him and moved away. I disliked him. Quite fiercely. I made my way to the prison, hoping this captain was still alive.

The captain was holed up in a stairwell in the prison. He told me that Crowley and some of his men were up on the roof above us. I bolted up the curving staircase and onto the widow's walk above. At the center of the rooftops, there were four men, one injured. The injured man laid back in a small shed, one man kneeling over him, while the other two protected him. I recognized Crowley instantly. He had longish, gray hair and an eye patch over one eye. He eyed me closely, like he was sizing me up as I trotted across the widow's walk toward them. I explained, breathless from running, why I was there, before he decided to take the wooden plank in his hand to the side of my head. He nodded.

"One of those mangy fleabags got Dempsey real good. We cannot move him until we stabilize his bleeding. Give us a hand holding back these mongrels. A couple of minutes is all we need."

I nodded and looked over the rooftops of the city. There was a large, cathedral-like building across from us. The full moon stood behind the ornate roof of that building, and suddenly, I saw figures crawling over the sides.

"Here they come," Crowley snarled.

I clutched my sword anxiously. Sweat slickened the wire-wrapped grip. The worgen dove over the rooftops at us. They aimed for the injured man, but Crowley and his friend barred the way. I squared off with a large Alpha worgen. He swiped wildly at me, not seeming to know much – if anything – of fighting techniques. It was not too hard to maneuvered my sword around his flailing claws. I tried not to think about the blood that ran across the widow's walk at my feet as I faced more worgen. Most of those left were smaller and weaker than the alpha I had faced. Between my sword and Crowley's...plank...they did not last long.

"Don't relax just yet," the older man growled at me.

I had noticed more figures on the roofs, as well. Many of them held back, looking warily at us. A large, brown furred worgen crouched near enough that I could hear him growling low in his throat. From behind us, the injured man groaned.

"It looks like its over for now," Crowley muttered to me, still eying the dark shapes. He turned to me. "Thanks to you, a good man survived. What's your name?"

"Shain," I answered softly.

"Listen, Shain. For the first time since the civil war, I agree with Greymane. Now is the time to put aside our quarrel. It sure doesn't look like these beasts much care whether you're a rebel or a royal. Send word back to Greymane. My men will join his. There's a safehouse not far from here, in Josiah's cellar. My lads stashed some heavy artillery there. Tell our kin that my arsenals are now at his disposal."

"Will you be alright?" I asked.

"We'll be on our way soon enough," Crowley assured me.

I nodded slightly, turned and fled the rooftop. There were more worgen on the streets now, and a brief flare of panic gripped me. I went back to the king who was glad to hear about Crowley's assistance. He sent me to go check on the arsenal. The building was sandwiched between two narrow streets, with an alley connecting them, all mercifully free of worgen. The cellar door was unlocked, and opened easily when I pulled on it. I moved down the stairs and stopped.

It was indeed a munition storage, with crates, weapons and even big pieces of heavy artillery stuffed into the dark cellar. It was lit by a few oil lamps. What really was the man huddled in the corner, Josiah I assumed. He looked ragged and frightened.

"Hello?" I asked. When he didn't respond, I stepped close. I reached out to touch him on the shoulder.

"No! Stay away!" His cry melted into a gut-churning howl. In an instant he had changed from a man to a heavy, furred beast. His jaws closed around my outstretched wrist before he lifted me up and threw me across the room. I hit the bottom of the staircase on my back, pain exploding through my ribs. All I saw was the worgen diving toward me as I struggled to stand.

"Down!"

The feminine cry was accompanied by a gunshot, and the worgen crumpled at my feet. Gasping, my stomach turning with fear and pain, I peered at the bundle of gray fur, before leaning back, lifting my eyes to the staircase, now dreading what I may find there.