This tale is blatant, obvious slash which turns sexual not far into the middle point of the story, if the idea bothers you, don't read. Honestly though, would you have clicked on the story if you were expecting anything else?

I do need to warn my readers however (if anyone actually knows me here, which would be really strange since no one knows this pen name ), this story is very, very violent. If you don't like that type of thing, honestly, save yourself the trouble and don't read. Also, please don't complain about things which don't fit into the game universe, I do my best, but honestly it's more difficult then one would think... at least for me.

(The actual plot doesn't start until 3, 1 and 2 are more introductions. Don't stop reading right away; it does get better as the tale goes on)

Also, I don't own World of Warcraft, but these characters are mine... though I'm sure Blizzard technically owns them too.

Part 1 - Noratu

1. Rogues and Priests

How long had it been since he had left Darkshore? Jophiel could not figure the exact time, but never before had home seemed so very far away. How many gnolls, murlocs, and goretusks had he killed? He could only assume the number was in the hundreds, and every day the number seemed to grow, and grow, and grow. However, at the current time Jophiel was fighting a different, much more cunning set. They called themselves "The Defias Brotherhood". Jophiel's first encounter with these humans happened not long ago.

The reason for this encounter centered on a young male (and human) priest with short, somewhat feminine, black hair. He held a gorgeous slender face and deceptively innocent smile which Jophiel liked from first sight. It was the middle of the afternoon in Westfall when they had first met. Jophiel watched the boy priest from the shadows and waited patiently for the priest to leave before returning to kill another set of harvest watchers for a decrepit farmer who paid much better then he should by common sense alone. All at once, a group of humans in bright red approached the boy. Two men in bandanas stood beside a woman with a patch over her right eye. Her hair was a fiery red and she looked wary beyond her years, though she could not have been even 30, the blemishes and wrinkles on her face told a much different story. The priest turned to the woman and smiled a bright smile, he seemed oblivious to the danger he was in.

"Hey miss. What's wrong?" The priest asked in a tone much to kind for the situation. Jophiel slowly made his way from the shadows and prepared to strike the three bandits (as Jophiel believed they were) from behind.

"We are a little short on silver. We need some cash for... repairs," The woman said. Her voice cut like a cutlass in its shrillness.

"How much du you need?" The priest asked.

"Take a wild guess hon," she replied.

"What do you mean?" The priest questioned once again. Jophiel almost sighed aloud at the boy's blatant ignorance.

"I see the church is allowing mentally handicapped priests now, good to know," The woman continued her verbal assault. The priest still stood motionless, but the smile on his face was gone. "Give me all your money or I'll run you through."

"I need this silver," The boy replied steadfast. The woman unsheathed the longsword at her side

"I don't have time for this. Pillager, Looter, just kill the stupid kid," the woman spoke once again. The two men beside her unsheathed their weapons as well. Jophiel could tell she was a leader, for she held a strong command over the others. One man prepared to attack while the other began readying a fire spell. Was it a fireball? Jophiel wasn't sure, but didn't plan to find out. One swift hit over his head sent the mage to the ground sapped. The other two bandits turned at a speed unlike any Jophiel had encountered in the local bandits, but the man with the dagger still never had a chance for survival.

Jophiel had just bought a Blackwater cutlass from the Auction House, and he planned on testing it upon these bandits. The new blade struck the man with the dagger, and pierced him through the chest. Crimson flowed from the wound, and Jophiel's dagger in his other hand ended the man's screams of pain along with his life. Jophiel twisted the dagger into the man's skull and then tore it from the flesh; chunks of bone could be seen along with the necessary crimson, from the wound. As the man fell, Jophiel effortlessly tore his new cutlass from the dying (if not already dead) man.

"You bastard!" The woman cried. She recklessly charged Jophiel, and was met with a kick to the chest. She stumbled backwards and in one blow was disarmed... completely. The blade, with her hand still holding tight, crashed to the ground and the woman cried in horrible yet oddly beautiful agony. A dark red flowed from her mutilated arm and she began to lose consciousness within a few moments. Before the woman was allowed to find her own way to sleep, Jophiel took matters into his own hand. In a move, which to the uninitiated would look almost like a dance, the stained Blackwater cutlass met with the woman's head, and the top of her head was separated from her body to join her hand upon the ground. She looked vacantly at Jophiel for a moment, and then collapsed to the ground.

Jophiel's eyes moved back to the one he had sapped and cursed under his breath. He should have killed the mage while he had the chance, he knew this, and now knew he would have to face the consequences. The pillager's hands concentrated in a single spot and a bright flame burned from his hands.

"Die rogue!" The pillager cried out. All at once his hands slumped to his side and the familiar crimson poured from his eyelids and his nose. The flames subsided and the pillager fell to the ground, dead within moments. Confused, Jophiel found his vision upon the priest he had saved. The pries was smiling mildly; innocently.

"How?" Jophiel questioned.

"I'm a shadow priest," The priest replied still smiling.

2. The Defias Brotherhood

Within a short time the Defias were informed of Jophiel's actions from a member who hid in the barn not far from the confrontation spot. She explained that the youthful, long white haired night elf could possibly become, for lack of a better term, a problem. Two days after the "incident" in Saldean's farm, the bandit's path crossed with the night elf once again. Jophiel was on the road between Sentinel Hill and the long deserted village of Moonbrook. His quest was to find a compass for an older man in Stormwind. Normally such tasks were beneath the highly skilled (if somewhat inexperienced) rogue, but the money was good, and there were plenty of goretusks to skin along the way. Jophiel was on his 5th goretusk when he met with more members of the brotherhood, in their intimidating red clothing and bandanas. Their entire body except for the tips of their hands, which gripped swords, were covered so that not a feature could be made out. Jophiel however, had a guess, even without seeing their faces that they had not come only to chat.

Jophiel's first instinct was to run, but six more of the men ambushed him from the rear. Where had they all come from? Jophiel wondered, but at the moment he did not have time to figure such a thing. He figured it made little difference. The fact still stood; there were twelve Defias, six on each side. The night elf knew he had not a chance in hell, but he readied himself. Would they speak before the assault? Jophiel wondered to himself.

"Those who betray the brotherhood must be dealt with, foul night elf," One of the men in the front of Jophiel said in a haunting monotone. Jophiel's hand went for one of his throwing daggers on his belt. One quick flip of the wrist was all it took for the one who spoke in such a tone to be silenced for all eternity. The dagger pierced the man's forehead and he fell onto the light orange ground. His arms fell limply around him and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The other members of the brotherhood decided the time for speaking was over.

"Aw hell," Jophiel muttered to himself. He figured he would die here, but before he was released into only a wisp, he would take as many of the 11 remaining with him. Jophiel's Blackwater Cutlass connected with one of the men's blades and held fast, a man came from behind, but Jophiel's foot sent the man reeling backwards. A third man struck from the side and Jophiel caught the blade with his rusted dagger he had kept since his arrival in Stormwind.

Both hands were occupied, so though Jophiel could hear yet another of the bandits, he could not stop the man's sword from slicing into Jophiel's shirt, and splitting open his pale, yet fare, pink skin. Jophiel winced in pain.

"You're going to die, night elf," Another taunted. Jophiel truly believed this. Still, he knew he could do more then die like a trapped plane strider in a hunter's sights. A swift kick to the man in his front gave Jophiel strength to overpower the man. With the grace of a master dancer, the Cutlass cut into the man's neck and sent a spray of blood onto Jophiel's clothes and face. The man collapsed to the ground, but the others only grew closer.

It was as if the battle had been choreographed long before the actual performance. The Cutlass swirled to Jophiel's side and sliced another man's stomach open. The man cried, and Jophiel quickly silenced him with his rusted dagger. A man struck from his side, and Jophiel only dodged the blunt of the blade by mere inches. The edge sliced into his arm and he cried out in pain. The rusty dagger quickly found its way into the man's forehead. Even as he fell, more came to take his place. Jophiel managed to take down two more before a hit to the jaw, with the handle of a sword, sent him crashing to the ground. He struggled to leap to his feet, but it was an impossible feat. All at once the realization that he would die here struck Jophiel much harder then the boot which came dangerously close to shattering his ribs. He would not die attempting some great feat, but instead here, in the damned farmland of Westfall. As things seemed ever bleak, a single being came to the young night elf's aid. However, it was not another night elf, nor was it a human. In fact, it wasn't even a member of the alliance.

And so ends the first submission, if you enjoyed, please continue on, and if you did not, I suggest you keep reading regardless. It does get better.