Prologue

Candlelight flickered in the dark chamber, dancing on the stone walls and causing shadows to ripple. It shined dully in a silver pitcher with moisture dripping down its sides and the matching goblets. A tall, broad shouldered man sat in a large chair, one ankle propped on the opposite knee, staring at a scrap of paper. A deep wrinkle creased his forehead while he mulled over his thoughts, oblivious to the single shadow growing larger to his right. A cloaked figure stepped silently from behind a pillar and softly cleared it's throat. The seated man looked up from the parchment, quickly surveying the intruder.

"Ah, Magni. I apologize for the lateness but am pleased you could come so soon. I felt this could not wait until morning and was too crucial to trust to messengers."

"Always a pleasure to visit Stormwind, Varian. The trip is no effort with the tram between our great cities." King Magni Bronzebeard freed a hand from his dark cloak and firmly grasped King Wrynn's extended hand. He pulled the hood off his head, revealing bright red hair held back by a circlet supporting a large ruby. Dark circles beneath his eyes spoke to many sleepless nights. "What have you learned?"

King Wrynn crossed the chamber and poured sweet smelling wine into a silver goblet. He handed it to Bronzebeard and settled back down in his chair, indicating to one across from him. "Nothing good, I am afraid. Reports are growing more dire by the day. They're starting to come from Kalimdor, as well. I may have to travel to Darnassus soon and apprise the Night Elves of what we've learned." He shook his head, long dark hair loose around his shoulders swayed with the movement. One powerful hand rubbed at his temples while the other relinquished the scrap of parchment to Bronzebeard who read it through once, eyes widening, and then read it a second time, more slowly.

"Surely this canna' be right, Varian." Bronzebeard shook his head incredulously. "If tha's the case, then…"

"I have had it confirmed from at least two other sources," Wrynn interrupted. "I had a hard time believing it myself. The question is: what do we do about it? I have already alerted the Mages of Dalaran." The two men sat in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. The candles slowly dripped wax, the only marker of passing time. Finally, Bronzebeard sighed heavily, breaking the trance and causing the nearest candle to gutter. He frowned in its direction and took a long drink from his wine glass. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he turned to Wrynn, who looked at him with weariness evident on his face. "Only thing I can suggest is to follow the Mages' advice," he said to the human king. "At least it will give us time to think of something else, and if all else fails, it wi' be there."

Wrynn nodded and clasped his hands together in front of him. He looked more resigned than relieved. "Thank you for your council, Magni. I had thought much the same. That merely leaves the task of finding someone crazy enough to take the mission."

Chapter 1

Warm sunshine soaked pleasantly into the lone man's skin while a chill breeze ruffled his newspaper and thick, dark hair. The openness of the Antonidas Memorial lent itself to the near constant wind blowing through Dalaran, but also permitted unobstructed views of anyone in the area, a factor he always considered. The hum of the crowd milling about in front of the Bank of Dalaran and rhythmic ping of the blacksmith's hammer filled his ears. A troll strolling past caught his eye over top his Gadgetzan Times, the natural sway of her hips causing her long braids to click from the small bones secured at their ends. He grunted softly to himself as he returned to his paper, still amazed the Horde and Alliance were keeping the unsteady truce in the floating city of Dalaran. Of course, anyone who dared violate it would have to answer to The Mages and no one was in a hurry to test their response. Before he was able to restart the article he had been reading, a long shadow fell across the paper.

"Hey Mike! Snuck up on ya, didn't I?" Ignoring the voice, he non-chalantly turned the page of his Times. "C'mon, I know you can hear me. Don't be such a Blood Elf."

Mikayne Stanford calmly and deliberately folded his newspaper, placing it on the bench next to him, before turning a disdainful look at the newcomer. "I knew you were there the whole time," he lied.

"Yeah right! I saw the drool dripping out of your mouth watching that troll walk by. I'm sure if you asked, she's braid your hair, too!" A broad grin split his handsome young face, his hazel eyes sparkled with laughter. A matching set of hazel eyes didn't return the amusement; instead they glared impatiently. The glare lengthened as both men allowed the silence to stretch, trying to not be distracted by the delicious smells wafting from a nearby baker. Each man waited on the other, a pair of statues aside from the wind dancing in their hair.

"What is it you wanted to tell me so badly you asked me to postpone my trip to Stormwind, little brother?" Mikanye gave in. Silent staring contests never worked well on Mattock; he had more patience. Mike folded his well-muscled arms across his broad chest, fighting the urge to smack the smile off his brother's face.

"Oh, I want to wait and tell everyone at once," Mattock said excitedly, his exuberance already starting to bubble over.

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, I invited the crew to the Legerdemain so we can celebrate after I tell you guys." Matt settled on the bench next to his brother, squinting now that his eyes were turned to the bright sunlight. His right leg began to unconsciously bounce, a sign his body was pent up with excess energy.

"Sounds like big news," Mike said in a flat voice, his eyes resuming the habitual scan of his surroundings.

"It's great news, and I can hardly wait to tell everyone!"

Mike sighed and let his hands fall into his lap. Gazing off unseeingly into the distance, a touch of sadness in his voice he said, "And you won't even give your big brother a hint."

The brilliant smile slid slowly off Matt's face. He leaned closer to Mike and put a hand on his shoulder. "Mike, I'm sorry. I didn't even…" Matt's words were cut off as Mike threw an arm around his neck and put him in a head-lock. "Hey! Let me go you over grown Blood Elf!" he yelled as he struggled to break free.

Mike just laughed uproariously and tousled Matt's shaggy blonde hair. "You fell for it! Oh, priceless! You'd think after all the times I did it to you as kids, you'd learn." Matt sagged against Mike's side, no longer struggling and resigned. He tried to respond but only ended up with a mouthful of Mike's sleeve. "What was that?" Mike asked at the muffled noises under his arm.

"I said, are you about done?" Matt tried to look irritably up at his brother but the awkward angle thwarted him.

"Sure. If you tell me your news, I'll let you go." He gave a good squeeze to send the message home.

"Fine, fine. Just ruin it for me like usual," Matt replied, somewhat dejectedly. "Master Romano said I was ready to graduate training and start assisting in actual missions." Nothing happened at first; Mike continued to hold Matt in the head-lock. Then he pulled his brother up by the neck into a big bear hug.

"Congrats, little bro," he said quietly. The hug lasted hardly a second before Mike was standing next to the bench, an impatient look on his rugged face. "Well are you coming? You have people waiting on you." He turned and started striding toward the avenue leading to the Legerdemain. A stunned Mattock hurried to catch up.

Stepping through the arched stone doorway, the brothers let theirs eyes adjust to the dimness before entering further. A quick glance around showed mostly empty tables, jam-packed bookshelves, and a bartender studying his reflection in a glass ale mug. Mike nudged Matt and indicated with his chin to a long table at the back of the room. Matt, still absorbing what had happened at the Memorial, stared blankly in the direction of the bar. Mike propped his black leather boots in the chair next to him and leaned back to casually survey the room. His scan revealed well made carpets under foot, a black pot-bellied stove trying to spread warmth from the corner, and the innkeeper descending stairs to his right. Sounds of mounted traffic drifted in, mingled with the clink of ale mugs. A breeze brought the aroma of pungent cheese from across the street to blend with stew bubbling on the stove. Only a few quiet minutes passed before the bright sunlight pouring through the door was lessened for a moment as a short woman entered the Legerdemain, distracting Mike from a rather close inspection of the innkeeper. Her blonde hair was tightly braided, giving easy access to the sword hilt jutting over her right shoulder; bright green eyes swept the room before falling on the brothers. She headed toward them, striding confidently around tables nearly as tall as her chest, stopping in front of Mike.

"Hello Mikayne. Hello Mattock," she greeted in a lilting voice. "I see I'm the first one to show."

"Hey Blanche," Mike answered. He put on his most dashing grin, which caused her eyes to roll. He turned to Matt, his smile twisting into an annoyed half-grimace. Tapping Matt on the upper arm with the back of his hand, he said, "Hey Scourge-brain, the lady is talking to you."

"Huh?" Matt's distant stare turned and refocused, just now noticing someone had joined them. He scrubbed his face with his hands and ran them up through his hair before leaning forward onto the table. "Oh, hi Blanche. Glad you could come."

"Delighted to, laddie," she answered with a grin and a wave of her hands. "Now what's yer big news abou'?"

Matt opened his mouth to reply as Mike said, "The doctors finally figured out what's wrong with him." Smug amusement plain on his face, Mike placed his arms behind his head and started to whistle a rowdy Dwarven bar song. Matt closed his mouth, looking a bit deflated.

"Is that any way to treat yer brother, now?" Blanche tsked as she pushed Mike's feet off the chair in front of her, causing him to suddenly rock forward into the table.

"It is in the Stanford family," he said, rubbing his middle where the table edge had hit him and raising an eyebrow. "You going to be able to sit in all that metal?"

"I could turn ya upside down and whip yer bottom 'til the Light saved ya in all this metal!" She flashed him a wicked grin with a wink and laughed heartily. Removing her gauntlets, she sat down, leaning forward a bit to allow for her sword. "Aye, I can do jus' abou' anything but swim in me plate."

"I bet that would be something to see though," said Mike, joining in the laughter. Matt continued to sit and watch, letting the conversation wash over him. He fidgeted with a loose seam in his worn leather gloves. Like most of his gear, they had been handed down from Mike and didn't fit quite right. Despite being a bit too large for his hands, he'd used them all through the Academy. Mike and Blanche carried on jovially, sneaking jibes at one another between discussions on weapons, battle stories, and showing off scars. Matt shook his head, amazed that they could have essentially the same conversation every time the two met. He was thoughtfully examining an orc at the end of the bar when a light, pleasant, floral scent wafted by him. His eyes closed, while he breathed deep to take it in. Blanche elbowed Mike and nodded slightly toward Matt. They shared a knowing grin and turned to face the scent's source. A tall, slender elf walked slowly yet purposefully in their direction. Long lilac hair flowed down her back, only a few shades deeper than her skin. Dark tattoos reminiscent of water droplets boldly surrounded her silver eyes. Mike waved at her, hoping it covered the swift kick he delivered to his brother's shin. She reached the table just in time to hear Matt mutter a curse.

"Well, I can hear that Mattock is following in your footsteps more and more each day," she said to Mike but her broad smile encompassed them all. Matt's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he straightened from rubbing his injured shin. He subconsciously twitched his blonde hair out of his eyes and smiled.

"Just accidentally bumped my leg, Lorelai. Sorry for saying that."

"Oh, it's nothing to apologize for. I've said worse myself!" Lorelai said, grinning. "Want me to take a look at it? I can usually fix bumps and bruises fairly easily."

"No, no. That's not necessary. Really a small bump, Lore," Matt said. As if to reinforce his words, he quickly leaned back in his chair, though nearly toppling off backward ruined the effect.

"Suit yourself." Lorelai shrugged and slid into the chair next to Blanche. "What's the big news? Better not be about some stupid new weapon you're all worked up over." She delicately crossed her long legs and gazed at Matt expectantly, causing him to blush anew under her stare.

"Uh, well I was hoping to wait for Benbus. I know Sarah is stuck in Stormwind doing that guest lecture, so she won't be here." He wiggled in his seat and drummed his fingers on the table edge, both pleased and nervous at holding her attention. It seemed he might get a neck cramp from all the hair twitching.

"Hm. I'm not sure he's returned from his trip yet. Let me run upstairs to our room and see. Just a tip, though; don't call him Benbus." With a wink, she left the table, gracefully crossing the room and ascending the stairs, Matt's eyes following her the whole way. Mike and Blanche shared another knowing look.

"I'm surprised she still had clothes on with the way you were looking at her," Mike said, a large amused grin on his face. Matt turned to him irritably, spoiled by the flush blossoming on his cheeks again. Blanche was nearly doubled over coughing into her fist to cover her laughter. Mike clapped his brother on the shoulder, his expression hinting at concern beneath the smile. "You know you have absolutely no shot, right? She's with Ben and has been for a while now."

"Doesn't matter," he replied stubbornly, crossing his arms. "She's perfect. You never know what could happen…" Matt's face shone with fervent hope, his eyes lost in dreams. Every conversation with him about Lorelai ended in the same place in began. Shaking his head, Mike chose not to push the issue this time, since she might return any moment. Blanche managed to recover from her coughing fit and wiped tears out of her eyes.

"Oi, you two lads sure know how to entertain a girl!" She slapped the table for emphasis, rattling the glass top and making the candle flames waver. Blanche was stronger than she looked and it sometimes seemed even she forgot. She just shrugged it off and returned to showing Mike a pale scar along her collarbone. "I'm tellin' ya, the cold up here is makin' 'em show up more!"

Matt frowned and straightened the candelabra back into position in the center of the table. Propping his chin on one hand, he ran his fingers through the flame and let his mind wander. He was accustomed to being teased by Mike and Blanche; he rarely let it get under his skin any more. Matt attributed a lot of his success at the Rogue Academy to surviving growing up with Mike. Thick skin and quick reflexes took years to truly hone. He jerked his hand back with a hiss and put the injured finger into his mouth.

"Fire burns, brother," Mike said before turning back to Blanche and pointing an emphatic finger at her. "As I was saying, just because Arthas is finally dead doesn't mean the world is all sunshine and rainbows now. The Scourge are still running rampant in Northrend, the Horde are as strong as ever, and I know it may not mean much to you but the Defias are pressing hard at Stormwind. There are still plenty of troubles in the world that require attention."

Grabbing his finger, she pushed his hand onto the table and pointed a finger of her own. "Aye, but we're containin' the Scourge, Thrall is keeping the Horde in check, and from what I've heard, the Defias resistance is still scattered, trying to find strength. I think it's okay to relax for a day or two, laddie." She had a patient look on her face and her words sounded practiced. Blanche signed, patting Mike's forearm. "Turn yer brain off, dear. The assault on Icecrown Citadel took a lot out o' us."

"Still trying to convince him, Blanche?" Lorelai breezed back to the table, retaking her seat. "The more stubborn he and Ben get, the more I'm inclined to say just the girls should go on our trip. We'd probably have more fun without them, anyway." She gave Blanche a conspiratorial wink. She turned to Matt and said, "Ben will be down in a minute. He just got back and is putting away his gear. Here, go buy us a round. By the time you return, he'll be joining us." A few worn gold coins clinked as she pulled them out of her hip pouch and placed them in his upturned hand. He stared at the coins a moment before his fingers curled around them and he stood, walking slowly to the bar on the other side of the room.

Mike's eyes narrowed briefly in thought as he watched his brother. "He just burned his finger on a candle. Probably just distracted by his news." He flashed a grin at Lorelai. She pursed her lips while appearing to read him.

"Mhm. You can try to cover it up as much as you want, but I see what's going on." She brushed her hair over her shoulder and leaned across the table toward Mike, whose expression was now unreadable. "I know how proud of him you are."

Mike just laughed and leaned back in his chair, shrugging off her words. "Yeah, sure thing, Lore."

"And I know how much you worry about him, how you look out for him," she said, tapping the table with her forefinger for emphasis. "You don't hide it as well as you think."

"That's because there's nothing to hide, woman." Mike stretched his arms over his head and turned to continue his conversation with Blanche, though her furrowed brow and lips pressed thin didn't bode well.

"I'd be careful how you talk to Lorelai. She has a wicked snap kick," said a table-high forehead, a crest of deep red sprouting above it.

"That doesn't surprise me. You know, Ben, there are plenty of chairs at the table. Don't have to sit on the floor."

"Mikayne, I see you're still getting styling tips from the school girls in Stormwind." The crest began to rise as a gnome climbed into the chair next to Lorelai. His brown eyes were dark pools of intensity, corners wrinkled from the smile on his face. His nose was a bit too large on a face that could almost be called handsome. Lorelai shook her head, turning a blithe grin to Blanche who just laughed quietly and shrugged her shoulders in return. "So what's going on? Mike get too excited about the new barber in Dalaran?" asked Ben.

"Nah, he was fired after people saw what he did to you," Mike retorted. Their banter was as comfortable and second-nature as breathing. "The news is Matt's, not mine; I'll let him tell you. And he might spontaneously burst if he doesn't get to tell you soon."

"Then it's good he's returning with our drinks. We wouldn't want him splattered all over," added Lorelai. She turned her full smile back on as Matt returned to the table, five foaming ale mugs in his hands. His vacant expression had vanished, excitement shining in his eyes.

"I hope everyone is okay with Dwarven stout. The pale bitter here wasn't very tasty." Matt looked at each of them eagerly as he clinked the mugs down on the table and passed them around.

"Mmm. One thing abou' Northrend I'll miss," said Blanche. "Very cold stout! It's jus' perfect. Now, are ya finally gonna share yer news with us, laddie?"

"Yes! You are all looking at the newest graduate of the Stormwind Rogue Academy!" Matt glowed as his friends joyously congratulated him. Blanche pounded her fist on the table in Dwarven salute while Lorelai clapped fervently. The few scattered patrons in the bar scowled in their direction at the burst of noise but Matt didn't notice. "Master Romano says I'm ready to start missions now."

"That's so great, Matt! Now you can join us instead of just listening to our stories," said Lorelai. She turned toward Mike, her eyes narrowing a bit. "You don't seem particular overjoyed that your little brother has graduated."

"Am I supposed to be jumping up and down, squealing like a teenage girl?" Mike returned Lorelai's stare with a glare of his own. A small sneer marred his otherwise impassive expression.

"It's okay, Lore. I told Mike earlier, before anyone else got here," Matt chimed in. He fidgeted slightly in his chair, causing it to squeak. Lorelai turned to him as he spoke, letting her irritation at Mike melt into happiness for him.

"Well we're all proud of you and so glad you'll be joining us," she said.

"Speaking of," said Ben, "I believe I have your first mission ready to go." He started rummaging around in his pockets, placing beads of blinding powder, three vials of poison, and some black string on the table. "Hm, I could swear I put it in this pocket. Where the… ah, here it is." He pulled a small slip of wrinkled parchment from his pocket and smoothed it out.

Lorelai looked from the scattered mess on the table up to Ben, an eyebrow raised. "Glad to see you take such care with important things, dear."

Mike was examining one of the dark powder beads, and nodded in approval before returning it to the pile. "It's not that important or it would never have been written down." He shot an overly patient grin at Lorelai.

Ben nodded as he replaced his belongings in his pocket. He looked up to see Lorelai glowering at Mike, who was pointedly ignoring her. Ben shook his head and said, "It's nothing major but it will be perfect for Matt to start on. It's a private commission from one of the nobles in Stormwind. Figured a little extra coin couldn't hurt."

"Well, what is it? And when do you have to go?" Lorelai asked sounding slightly annoyed.

"Day after tomorrow. Just a property retrieval." Clearing his throat, Ben took a long pull from his mug of stout and avoided Lorelai's eyes. "Shouldn't take too much trouble."

Blanche laughed warmly and said, "Aye. Stealing is the perfect thing for a new rogue. Might as well break him in now before he has to acquire supplies for the group." Amusement danced in her eyes as she turned to Lorelai. "Suppose that means our vacation is delayed a few days, eh Lorelai?"

Lorelai tapped a finger pensively against her chin and a slow smile spread across her face. "on the contrary, Blanche. Our trip to Booty Bay can go as planned. We'll let the boys have their rogue fun and us girls will enjoy ourselves without them." Looking very pleased, Lorelai patted Blanche's hand and left the table, disappearing upstairs.

"I knew that look meant trouble," sighed Ben. "Well, I suppose I'll see you guys tomorrow. Blanche, enjoy your trip. Try to keep Lore mostly out of trouble if you can, please. For my remaining sanity." Blanche chuckled as Ben climbed down out of his chair and followed Lorelai upstairs.

In the silence and growing darkness that followed, Matt looked between Mike and Blanche, a bit confused as to what had happened in the wake of his news. "Why do I get the feeling that I've missed something?" he asked them.

Mike clapped his brother on the shoulder, a wry smile on his face, and said, "Because you have."