Chapter One

Beginnings

Tetsuyá strode along the forest path contemplating what he would find when he arrived. He was on a mission to recruit for the Black Hand, an organization comprised of the Horde's most elite fighters. The Black Hand were the driving force of the Horde's military power and were often sent on near suicide missions because they were the only ones with any chance of surviving. As it was though, the Black Hand's operatives didn't always make it and the Black Hand usually had some vacancy to fill. The job of recruiting fell to lower ranking senior members of the Black Hand like himself to find and recruit fresh, new blood into their midst.

He had been ordered to go out to (something) Isle and locate the most promising of the young warriors and weed them out until he had nothing but Black Hand worthy candidates.

Tetsuyá was still deep in thought, contemplating his mission when he arrived and was greeted by the Elvin ambassador meant to lead him around the Isle and show him the candidates. In other words he was his baby sitter and Tetsuyá instantly disliked him. The elves had been a new addition to the Horde, if only because they had no one else to turn to or who was willing to help them. Even though they were now allies, Tetsuyá could see the disgust that the elf ambassador was trying to hid. And failing he might add.

He had grown used to these looks however; he was Forsaken after all. He was a corpse drug up from the abyss by his dear prince Arthas Menithel to fight as part of his undead legion; the Scourge. Long story short, the Lich King's grasp on his army weakened for just a moment, and in that moment he and his brethren had broken away from the Scourge and reclaimed a will of their own. Of course, people didn't see that. All they saw was the monster left behind, the plague of undeath.

"Greeting Lord Tetsuyá," said the elf with a polite nod of his head as he reached Tetsuyá.

Tetsuyá nodded back and the elven ambassador continued with, "If you will follow me, I can show you to your quarters. I'm sure you must be exhausted."

"I'm not and I know you know that ambassador, dispense with the formalities and just show me to the warriors," snapped Tetsuyá, having no patience to play word games with the ambassador.

"If you wish Lord Tetsuyá," returned the elf, humor evident in his voice. He had heard of Tetsuyá's short temper.

With the elven ambassador leading the way to the training grounds Tetsuyá took in his surroundings. It never ceased to amaze him that while the rest of the world was gripped in the cold iron fist of winter, these forests remained in a climate of early summer in the hearth of Quel'Thalas. The elven architecture was nothing but domes, spires and over hanging walkways.

A snort of contempt escaped Tetsuyá as he wondered what type of warrior such a gaudy race could possibly produce. Sure his own Queen was a descendent of this race but she was a battle hardened warrior who had been pulled, just as he had, from death in order to serve the Scourge, but every race had its exceptions surely. There was no way this race of elves could produce warriors such as his queen and the pompous ambassador.

As Tetsuyá and the ambassador reached the training grounds, Tetsuyá began to observe the collection of warriors here for his consideration. Within the first ten minutes he had eliminated most of them as candidates and quickly moved through the remaining ones. Tetsuyá was just about to just give up on the lot of when a female burst into the training grounds. She had long silky blond hair that was tied up in a ponytail and was wearing plain clothing; drab compared to the other elves. She had a quick word with the weapons master and took up her own weapons; a pair of daggers, the weapons of an assassin.

His interest piqued, Tetsuyá watched as the elf paced across the ground towards the training dummies. She paused before the dummies, considering them for a moment before, in a flash of movement, leaped over her target flinging one of her daggers into the joint where a humanoid's neck would have been. As she landed behind the dummy, she whirled around a buried her remaining dagger into the dummy's spine.

Tetsuyá turned to the ambassador and remarked, "Sad isn't it? All your most promising warriors gathered here and the only one I consider is a female." Tetsuyá stalked away from the training grounds with a wicked grin on his face.

Velvët handed her training daggers to the weapons master and prepared to depart the training grounds for the evening when she saw a brightly robed elf, readily identifiable as an ambassador due to the bright gold circlet upon his brow.

"Greetings Miss Velvët," the ambassador intoned in a crisp formal manor.

"Good evening Lord Ambassador," replied Velvët coolly, wondering what he wanted with her.

"If you would not mind a companioning me to the local tavern for some refreshments, I have some matters of the gravest import to speak with you about," said the ambassador in his formal drone. This more than anything dissuaded Velvët that he wanted something more than business related.

"I suppose I can spare an hour to listen to what you have to say," returned Velvët and took up step next to the ambassador as they headed for the tavern.

The walk, while short, gave Velvët plenty of time to consider what the ambassador could possibly wish to speak to her about. However, despite having grappled with the problem from every conceivable angle, she could not fathom what it was. She resigned her self to waiting until the reached the inn to find out what it was he wanted to say and would deal with it then.

Velvët was abruptly pulled from her thoughts as they stepped into the tavern. Following the ambassador, she quickly pulled up a chair opposite in a secluded corner of the tavern.

"So Miss Velvët, tell me, what do you know of the Black Hand?"

Puzzled as to why the ambassador would choose this subject of conversation, Velvët responded with, "Nothing more than the common hearsay I'm afraid. I know that they are an organization that operates within the Horde and that each of the member races has their own division. I also know that many of our Rangers have been recruited into the organization and that even their former headquarters is being transferred to the Black Hand. Lastly I am aware that Lady Dawnstrider has taken the mantle of General of the Silvermoon division."

"it would appear you know quite a bit about these matters, more than the mere hearsay you claim them to be," commented the ambassador, "but are you aware they have recruiters among us, watching our best fighters for possible candidates?"

"No, I was not," replied Velvët, pleased that she had kept evidence of her surprise out of her voice.

"Then it is fair to assume that you are also unaware that the recruiter I met with today, Lord Tetsuyá, took a great deal of interest in you today. He asked me to approach you with the offer to join the Black Hand."

"I don't know what to say," replied Velvët, shock evident on her face and in her voice.

"So what say you," asked a voice from the corner filled with shadows. Velvët watched as a piece of the shadow detached its self and walked toward the table, coalescing into a humanoid form. As it stepped into the light cast by the magic lantern on the table Velvët was able to identify him as a member of the Forsaken.

He was clothed entirely in black with weapons visible on much of his body and some, she was sure, she couldn't see. His skin, or what was left of it, was paper white and a slight smell of decay accompanied him.

A wicked grin spread across her face as she gazed at the dead man and she said, "When do we leave Lord Tetsuyá?"