A/N – I do not own Warcraft – If I did I would be rich, but I'm not so I don't!
All characters, locations, etc, etc © Blizzard Entertainment
Rating may change as story progresses
.
.
.
The Greatest Chapter
.
Chapter 1
.
.
The noble Humans of Stormwind are a proud, tenacious race. Though the recent invasion of the demonic Burning Legion decimated their sister kingdom of Lordaeron, the defenders of Stormwind stand vigilant against any who would threaten the sanctity of their lands.
Nestled in the foothills of Elwynn Forest, Stormwind City is one of the last bastions of Human power in the world. Ruled by the child-king Anduin Wrynn, the people of Stormwind remain steadfast in their commitment to the Grand Alliance. Backed by their stalwart allies, the armies of Stormwind have been called away to fight the savage Horde on distant battlefields.
With the armies gone, the defense of Stormwind now falls to its proud citizens. You must defend the kingdom against the foul mongrels that encroach upon it and hunt down the subversive traitors who seek to destroy it from within.
Now is the time for heroes; now Humanity's greatest chapter can be told.
.
.
.
Pinning her hair up from her neck, Arienya surveyed herself in the mirror. She was shaking from nervous excitement making the sleeves of her dress twitch. It was a lightweight wool dress in a soft green that made her hair look like it was on fire. It was loose enough that no one would notice the breeches she wore underneath but tight enough that it still flattered her curves.
With not a little effort, she concentrated on smoothing the crease from in between her eyebrows. Finally happy with her appearance, Arienya made her way down the stairs to the small kitchen, her nose leading her to breakfast.
Her mother stood by the counter under the window. Setting down the pot she had been holding, she turned to look at daughter.
"Happy Birthday, sweetie. How did you sleep?"
"I didn't get that much," came the reply.
A hand clapped down on her shoulder from behind making Arienya jump.
"I know your looking forward to all of this but it won't be a good idea to fall off your pony from tiredness. Now eat up!"
Smiling at her father, Arienya moved to sit at the scrubbed table. Her mother placed the bowls in front of them and sat across the table. Looking down at the porridge dotted with dried fruits, she realized she wasn't hungry. Her mother raised an eyebrow, pulling a funny face – they both giggled and started to eat.
.
Arienya practically flew out of the backdoor and across the garden, soft leather boots making hardly a sound. Stood before her was her pony, dwarfed by her fathers old warhorse, tacked up and ready to go. After a few quick farewells, they were on their way to Goldshire to spend a night at the inn before winding on to Northshire Abbey.
Ever since she was a small child, Arienya had poured over books and pictures of the Abbey. Her parents had told her that it was a haven compared to the hustle and bustle of Stormwind. A place which people from all walks of life passed through, you could always find someone to test your skills against or to teach you something new. Now, finally, her parents had agreed to let her visit on her 17th birthday … accompanied by her father, of course.
.
Pushing her way through the doors of the smokey tavern, Arienya sought out the innkeeper. He was positioned near the bar at the back of the inn, having an argument with what she assumed was a dwarf. Seconds later the dwarf shoved past her and out the door, muttering under his breath in a deep, lilting voice.
Trying to keep the nervousness from her face, she approached the innkeeper. Her father was stabling the horses so it was her job to sort out the rooms.
"Excuse me, Sir?" she tried.
"Yes lass, what can I do for yer?" he turned to face her, sweeping his grizzly mane off his face.
"My-my farther sent for reservations three days ago. It was for t-two small rooms – name of Whitmere."
The innkeeper turned to his ledger on the bar, ginning as she stumbled her words.
"Right y'are lassie, all done – here'r yer keys. Room 4 and 7, straight in front of each other, top o' the stairs."
Arienya nodded at the man and thanked him, turning to her father who was carrying the bags through the door.
.
After a light breakfast of cured ham steak, honeyed bread and the best dwarven mild she'd ever tasted, they were finally at the walls of Northshire. The large arched gateway and high stone walls were guarded by, who she assumed to be men, in plate armour, some in the blue tabard of Stormwind, others in the red of Northshire. Through the gates and past the barracks was the Abbey itself.
Arienya's breath caught in her throat as she drank in the view. The sun was reflecting off the stained glass windows, brightening the colours and highlighting the facets of the images. Deep chuckling to her left brought her out of her reverie.
"Glad you came?"
"Oh Dad, it's fantastic – it's so ..." she paused, trying to find the right words, "peaceful!"
This brought more laughter.
"It hasn't always been, the walls we passed were built for defense and have been well used!"
Slowly moving the horses on, they began down the gentle slope towards the Abbey, admiring the well kept gardens surrounding it.
.
Approaching the large door that marked the entrance to the Abbey itself, they dismounted to be met by a guard in Northshire colours.
"Whitmere, we're here to see the Abbott," her father said.
"Very well," came the reply as the guard motioned for two pages to take the horses, "follow me, your things will be brought to your room's."
They walked through the large oak doors into a small hallway that branched off in many directions.
"The Abbott is currently occupied but he will be available shortly, in the meantime make yourselves comfy."
They were shown into a large room filled with benches and tables, a small fire was burning down in a grate on the far side of the room. There were only a handful of people dotted around the room, each keeping themselves to themselves.
"Derin?" a deep voice echoed from across the room, "Derin Whitmere? Is that you old chap? By the Light, it is!"
A stout man with an imposing beer gut trundled across the room, his tanned, weather beaten face surround be a mane of untamed hair.
"Reyan Stantmon, you old imp! How are you?"
Arienya's father moved towards the man, Reyan, grasping his hand like an old friend.
"What brings you here?"
Turning, her father motioned towards her.
"Reyan, this is my daughter, Arienya. Ari, this is Reyan Stantmon. We served in the same unit years ago, trained together too."
"Aye! Your dad saved this arm, mind you – lost two fingers before he did," grinning he waved his left hand for effect, and pressed on, "So Derin, you reproduced, will she be following the Light?"
"That's a choice she will have to make when she feels ready, but I would like to hope so."
He flashed a wide grin towards Arienya who smiled back weakly. She didn't have the heart to mention that she was interested in powers much more substantial than what the Light had offer. She knew her father was to proud to even entertain the idea of Magecraft compared against his precious Light!
They made their way to a corner of the room opposite the fireplace, where a barrel of mead stood on end. Sensing the alcohol induced ramblings that would follow, Arienya excused herself to explore the grounds.
.
She was sitting by some flower beds, replaying the conversation over and over again. Her mind reeled at the thought of having to choose the Light over the kind of life she wanted, but what choice did she have? A sudden voice behind her startled her out of her daze.
"May I?"
"Uh... y-yes, of course," Arienya stammered, caught off guard.
The stranger walked around the stone bench and took a seat, pulling out the skirts of her robe as she sat. Arienya couldn't help but stare as she noted the appearance of the woman next to her. Her robes were dark red pulled in by a silver plate belt. Her dark hair was pulled back behind one ear while the other side fell down, covering one hazel eye. The woman radiated power and, if she was quite honest, Arienya felt a little bit afraid.
"You look..." the stranger stopped, thinking on her choice of words,"put outabout something. Are you not enjoying your visit?"
Arienya stared, mouth agape.
"How do you know I'm visiting?"
"I blend well with shadows," she smiled, it was warm and friendly and made Arienya relax slightly,"I over heard your father, in fact I think the whole Abbey may have heard him. Am I right to assume that it was something that was said that has made you feel … put out?"
Who is this woman, Arienya thought, is she some kind of psychic?
"Umm... I just don't like people making assumptions about my path in life before I have even chosen it."
"I see. You do not wish to follow your fathers path with the Light, no?"
"I don't think so, I'm not sure, I like magic, I like it a lot, I just don't like hitting at things. I think I'm better suited to something that doesn't involve whacking at things."
The lady smiled at Arienya's innocent ramblings.
"You feel you would be better suited to a life with Magecraft, maybe?" she ventured.
"Yes, I suppose, though maybe not a Mage specifically. There are others. My mother for example was a Priest but I feel that might be to tame for me."
"Perhaps, although I have met Priests of all specializations, some are more powerful than most Mages - particularly those who study shadow magic."
"See, that interests me. Shadow magic I mean. That gets me excited – swords and sticks just don't!"
To Arienya's surprise the lady burst into a huge grin, making her appear years younger.
"In which case, child, I must introduce myself. I am Drusilla La Salle. I am here as a trainer to others of my craft who pass through. I am a Warlock."
Arienya's eyebrows rose as Drusilla continued.
"We Warlocks differ from Mages in several ways, yet are very similar in others. We specialize in shadow damage, can summon pets and demons for protection and can inflict prolonged curses on those who wish us harm. Unfortunately we cannot change our opponents into sheep or penguins – only the Mages can do that one."
If Arienya's eyebrows could have risen any higher they would have disappeared into her hair. She was shocked and awed by what she heard and wanted to know more.
.
.
3 day's later, Arienya was sat on her bedroom floor unpacking her saddle bags. She should have done it yesterday, when they arrived back home but she was so exhausted from the ride that she had toppled straight into bed.
All the information she had gained, all the excitement was still rushing through her. She had probed Drusilla for more information on her craft and had received some very satisfying answers. Drusilla, or 'Dru' as she preferred to be known, had tested Arienya's mana capabilities, told her more of the Warlocks history and lore and had not only told of but had shown Arienya powers and spells she could only dream of mastering. She had learned of Imps and Voidwalkers and hoped that one day she would summon her own.
Despite knowing the wishes of her parents, she fervently believed this was the path she wished to follow, this was where her life was leading her. She vowed to herself that on her 18th birthday she would return to Northshire to begin her training as a Warlock.
.
.
.
R/R please ^^*
~*Tori*~