Chapter 1

A man's career is, predominantly, the line of work he falls in love with the most. This passion is often incomprehensible to anyone but himself and, thusly, a man's career is his own creation. However, it takes a certain kind of aptitude and genius to understand why someone does what they do, for a genius knows what he wants to do, and knows what he is looking for.

So describes the mind of Miles Garling, a resident of Elwynn Forest and soon afterwards, Stormwind. He was a plain man, not too tall or short. Fair complexion, fair looks, a fair way of getting about the world. What was not apparent in his physical form was in abundance mentally. He was wittier than his contemporaries, a faster thinker than his colleagues, and one of the most intellectual men to reside in Stormwind. He was not very faithful, however. Acquaintances would come and go, as would his friends, and even his lovers. He had no faith in humans, or dwarves, or any species to come across his way, for that matter. He was succinctly introverted, thinking more than speaking. Perhaps this was his greatest strength, the magic of thought and reflection. He had no physical strength, no mastery with the arcane or the fel magicks, no connection with nature. He had wits, and the knowledge of firing a gun. So, this is a man, not a legend. This is Miles Garling.

Miles' career was that of a detective. He had searched many cases over: murders, robberies, crimes of passion. His innate knowledge of the mind kept him busy, and successful. The Stormwind Government, on the other hand, did not want anything to do with him. Every time a crime was reported, Miles would be a step ahead of the police force. However, it is a lie to proclaim that Miles was popular with the people. He had a vigilante status, neither praised nor despised. He would often get into barfights, be thrown in jail, then released a day later. He always wondered why they released him, despite his terrible rap sheet. He came to the conclusion that he was released because they knew he could do the job better.

For Miles, though, Stormwind was becoming boring. There was never a change in weather. The same sun and breeze would come and go. Nights were temperate, even in the winter. Ironforge would not satisfy him either. The thick air caused by the forges were not thick enough, apparently. So, in his quest for a new intellectual experience, Miles thought of traveling to Northrend, the former doorstep of the Lich King, who was now presumed defeated by heroes much more grandiose than himself. He wanted to make his home Dalaran, the city of the Kirin Tor. It was a cold city, to say the least, all the way in the sky over Crystalsong Forest. It was colder still, due to the unemotional personalities of the Magocracy. Perhaps that is what Miles prefered, a cold sensibility.

So, Miles had made plans to move to a small flat in Dalaran. He talked to his one very true friend, James, about his departure from the Eastern Kingdoms. He was about to get on the ferry to Northrend when they exchanged their last words.

"So, old fellow, I'm finally leaving the city."

"Ah, yes. I'm wondering why you would leave, though. Dalaran has barely any crime, and the mages are so vigilant you won't make a copper doing any sort of casework."

"I always have the option of moving back here, yes? This is just an intellectual visit. I will stay there, read, make the company of intellectuals, and so on."

"So, I am not an intellectual? At least not in your eyes, Miles? I've been your friend for years, and now you leave for a study trip?"

Miles did not seem very affected by his words,

"Old sport, I am not leaving forever. I am simply going on a trip to Dalaran. And you were always the most intelligent person I had ever met. I do not doubt your intelligence for a second."

"Oh, alright, then... I just don't understand, with the Lich King dead, why anyone would venture to Northrend anymore. I mean, you're not even than strong! This whole 'intellectual visit' is a bunch of trite. You just want to abandon anyone who gets close enough to you. That's how it's always been." James had a tint of regret in his voice, as if he knew his words would have no effect on Miles or the decisions he made.

"James, if you truly believe this, then begone. I will return in a matter of months, and if you feel abandoned, find another confidant. Lest you feel too emotionally overcome to keep your secrets bottled up inside. Goodbye, for now." Miles boarded the vessel, as James stood there, overcome by sadness that his friend was leaving him. This was Miles protocol for social situations. He would make excellent friends with people, and then suddenly abandon them. It would be very safe to say that he had problems becoming too intimate with people, for what reason we cannot be certain. Miles simply did not share the emotional bonds that other people had for him.

The ferry voyage was long, taking several days to complete. The advertised "instant trip" was false, and this was troubling for Miles. The hammocks provided in the general quarters were uncomfortable, and the food served was tasteless and boring. Miles wrote in his diary:

"Perhaps there is a payoff to all of this needless boredom and uncomfortableness."

On the third day, the ferry arrived at the Borean Tundra. Miles did not particularly enjoy this part of Northrend, as there was little to no vegetation to be found. Miles did not enjoy flying either, so the flight from Valiance Keep to Dalaran was nauseating to the extreme. He almost threw up on the Dalaran flight master, but was able to keep his lunch where it was.

The city was amazing. Purple, scarlet, and sapphire towers rose into the sky. Clouds would run through them, like long hair through a comb. The crystalline foundations of the city would resonate when a breeze would come through, providing a calming sensation. Many fountains and parks were available, including a display in honor of those who had defeated Arthas. People were friendly, but disengaging. They wanted little to do with people, other than help them on their way. The views were spectacular as well. From Miles' flat, he could see Fjords and mountain ranges stretching on for hundreds of miles. This seemed to be paradise for him. After a trip to the local bank, and a trip to a small eatery for some food, Miles came to his flat. It was a rather beautiful space, with gray stone walls. Inside the walls, gems were installed. These stones seemed to radiate a warm, orange glow which atmospherically lighted the room. There was furniture already installed, so all Miles had to do was unpack his belongings and place them in their designated locations. After searching through his stuff, however, he discovered that he was missing something.

"My pistol. I must've left it in Stormwind. I can always buy another one."

It was now late dusk, and Miles had left his flat and went to a local arms shop, surveying the various weapons available. The shopkeeper greeted him rather kindly.

"Looking for something, specific?"

"Yes. Just a pistol, any will do." Miles wanted to get done with this as soon as possible.

"I'll see what I have, then."

The shopkeeper went back to a room for a moment, then came back with an ornate pistol.

"It's got a device in it you see... it's a rotating barrel. It allows you to fire six shots before you reload. It's fantastic!"

"Yes. I will take that." Miles did not share the man's enthusiasm.

"Alright, then. It'll be 13 gold." As Miles put the money on the table, the Shopkeeper tried to reason why he would need a pistol.

"You don't look like an adventurer. Why would you need this?"

"Protection, of course."

"In Dalaran? You'd be crazy to even assume that you would need that here."

"Trust me, I need it more than you know."

"Alright then. Here you go."

As Miles left the shop, the man addressed him once more,

"Be careful with that! And be ready to use it on short notice!"

It's debatable whether or not miles followed his instruction.