Disclamer

I do not own anything in the Blizzard line of ownership, nor do i own the characters that may appear in it. However, i do own my characters, and a banana cream pie...

Chapter 1

Aden Ti'Marieal sighed softly, as he walked out of the burnt and ruined house in the wilderness. His long and black swept back hair was held in a loose braid behind him. Only a few strands fell in front of his cold and emotionless blue eyes. A gift from his human mother, along with the light tan of his skin. His features were slightly guant, and his face resembled that of an orc from Kalimdor. He was a little taller than most, his body was just barely crossing the line from lithe too overmuscled. His ears were both pierced, large golden hoops from the now extinct Deathspear Troll tribes hung from his lobes. Under his left eye, he held a scar large enough to encompass the lower lid, and trail down to the bottom of his cheek.

He was dressed in a loose black outfit, From the heavy black boots on his feet, to the black tanned Tauren hide that he wore fashioned into a pair of pants. He wore no actual shirt, but a black vest tanned from the same hide. A tightfitting undershirt of mesh made from a fishing net clung lightly to his body, hanging just barely over his fingers. On his hands, he wore a cold blue-steel metal guantlet on his left, and a black leather on his right, again made from tauren hide.

At his waist he wore a metal-plated swordbelt, which hung comfortably on one hip. Angled behind his back, he wore an old Blademasters sword, just one of two. Its notched blade had seen years of combat before it finally fell form its owners cold and lifeless fingers. It was in his mentors name, that he honored the hordes leader, even as he sided with the Forsaken. That, in Aden's mind, was a dishonorable thing to do. It was bad enough, siding with the demons back in the Hordes original homeland, but now they were allied with the dead and the damned. If Aden's mentor was still alive, he would have objected to it. That was why Aden was here, inspecting one of the many crispy ruins of a house. He had stepped into his role, and voice his opinon.

The weary leader of the orcs had no time to listen to the voice of what both sounded and looked like a child half-breed. And instead, had put him to use in other matters: Finding the ones who were responsible for the brutal killings in Horde territory.

Of course, his duty to Thrall came before all else, as his Mentor had taught him. So thats why he was here, at one of the newer destroyed houses, trying to find some track of the fiends behind this. His brow was furrowed in thought, as he walked slowly from the broken front door, his head lowered and looking at the ground carefully. Of course, he found nothing at all of his prey, but he did find the footdprints of what looked like a small child. And they were leading off somewhere else.

He had seen the footprints earlier, but he wanted to thoroughly check the house first. He found nothing, pools of hot blood, and fire. But he found no bodies.

With a soft sigh, he held the handle of his sword to keep it from hitting the back of his knee's, and took off in a light run in the direction to find the owner of these tracks.

I know, it's short...