Good day to you all.

This is my 2nd fanfic on WoW. For those of you who don't know me, greetings! For those who read my previous work...I AM SO SORRY FOR DISCONTINUING IT! _

I put the story on hold because of finals, but ever since then, I lacked motivation and incentive to keep writing. Truthfully, 2 months later, I felt like continuing the story, but my parents got me a PS3 and one distraction led to another. I swear this time, I will dedicate majority of my time to this fanfic.

I would also like to note that this fanfic is an AU of my previous one. It has NO RELATION to my previous work except for the characters. Personality, tone and theme of the story, I've decided to change it all, so don't expect characters like Nell to be the insensitive jerk she was in the previous story. (Sorry to you guys who liked her that way.) Just forget I ever wrote the previous story and everything will be OK! =D

Aight, EnjoY!

Captain Tobias Grandt hated clean up jobs. Lately, the Defias, a group of thieving scoundrels have been running amok, pillaging and raiding small, helpless outlying towns within Elwynn Forest. Apparently, the higher ups have begun to worry as the attacks began inching closer to Stormwind with each subsequent raid. Expecting a full armed assault on the Capital, they had sent out scouts to reveal the location of the Defias base camp and sent a strike force, 400 men strong to raze it to the ground.

Captain Tobias was hand picked to lead the troops. With a long list of victories and enough medals to fill a bolted treasure chest, he was the most suitable candidate. His cool and calm demeanor contrasted with the nervous looking faces of the troops that followed him. Many of them were fresh blood, their virgin blades unstained with the blood of the battlefield. The only person the good captain could count on to watch his back was his lieutenant, Doyle.

As they neared the Defias camp, Grandt had sent out a group of pathfinders to scout and assess the threat. Doyle rode up to his captain with a solemn look on his face.

"The soldiers are not ready for this mi' lord. I've seen a battle-group half the size of this and with injured to boot that were more battle ready than these green horns." he stated.

"Yes, I understand that morale is at a low. But it is normal. Reports say that we are outnumbered 3 to 1. We would just have to show the boys that such odds are good enough for soldiers of Stormwind." replied the stalwart captain.

"As you say, mi' lord. Ah the scouts have returned."

As the words left Doyle's lips, a handful of riders exited the treeline in fornt of them, their faces pale and their eyes wide with shock and terror.

"Sir! T-theres something y-you might want to see..." stammered the pathfinders.

Raising and eyebrow in curiosity, the captain gave the order to march on, wondering what got the soldiers so spooked.

He found his answer 10 minutes later.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The smell of charred wood and rot filled the air. Captain Grandt barely contained his own disgust at the scene before him. The minute the strike force had cleared the forest, they arrived at the Defias base. What they found was least expected. The camp was burning. Bodies were strewn across the area and littered the land as far as the eye can see. Blood flowed freely from many of the decapitated and broken bodies. The nearby lake was a flowing pool of crimson instead of the pure cerulean it should be. Buildings were burning and falling apart, charred wood unable to support the weight it carried.

The captain noticed, many of the Defias thugs had no weapons. In fact, many of the bodies were facing away from the camp, as if they were fleeing. Many of the green soldiers gave in to their stomach and let their breakfast go while others turned away in disgust.

"What could have done this?" muttered the captain.

"This was no battle... It was slaughter." commented Doyle, a solemn look on his face.

Grandt noticed a silver object, outlined by the glimmering flames. He dismounted and picked the little icon from the ground. It was an inverted triangular shaped badge with sword crossings and a wolf's snarling head in it's center. Grandt toyed with the badge with his finger inquisitively, not recognising it. Finally he close his hand around it and looked to Doyle.

"Who or whatever did this, is an abomination. We cannot allow them to live. Call the guards and alert the council. We will hunt down whoever did this and slay them all."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The red-eyed Blood Elf sneezed. That caught the attention of her two traveling companions. One was a humongous armored Orc, covered from neck to toe in solid, bulky blue plate. A mighty bronze axe, as big as the Orc himself hung from his back, dripping with ominous, red glowing essence. The other was a short, stumpy but broad dwarf, hooded and clad in reinforced leathers and mail armor. He carried a large, scoped boomstick and a wicked looking dagger. A huge bear trailing slightly beside him. The two odd races stared back at the elf, never expecting her to catch a cold. (That was what they assumed the sneeze was about)

The elf herself was someone who stuck out, even among her own race. She had orange-blonde hair tied into a small low tail, her elven ears poking out behind her bangs. unlike most bloed elves, her eyes were red and did not glow. This was a very rare genetic misprint in her elven lineage. She wore light plate armor, painted with a rich dark purple and trimmed with gold. A large broad sword hung from her back while two smaller ones, less impressive than the 2-hander hung from her waist. She was also only about 5'8 in height. A bit short for her kind. Even the Orc was at least 6'0.

"You alright there, lass?" queried the dwarf.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just got this chill running through the back of my spine for a second there." she replied. The Orc gave an amused snort and grinned to himself.

"Hah." he says "Its probably our employers thinking of ways to punish and berate you for costing them half the pay check our contract originally was worth."

The elf jumped up and down, waving her hands in the air in frustration.

"How was I supposed to know that the barn had all the black powder in it! I didn't think those thieves were so stupid as to store EVERYTHING in one place! I only planned to blow up one of the barns as a distraction!!" squealed the elf. This just made the Orc give her the accusing glare.

"Oh, so you did blow up the barn, knowing that we had to bring ALL the powder back."

The elf began to stammer, outraged and embarrassed that the Orc, a seemingly inferior race, had cornered her and beat her in a game of the minds. The elf began to sulk, already knowing what the other two wanted. She gave in.

"Fine! You two can have part of my share." she whined.

"Why thank you. How generous of you." said the Orc through grinning teeth. The Dwarf said nothing, but a slight smile under his hood told the others that he was satisfied.

"Geez louise, I'm not gonna have enough gold to get me through vacation season with you two backing me up."

"hah, serves you right you ungraceful buffoon of a woman." As the orc said this, he began running, he intentionally set off a ticking time bomb. The Dwarf just stood there, watching as an evil dark aura began surrounding the Elf.

"I take back what I said! Get back here you bastard! Who are you calling a ungraceful buffoon! Get back here! I'll rip your tongue off! I'll-"

The elf ran off after the Orc down the path, yelling out more and more profanity as her anger get the best of her, the Orc giving out loud hoots of laughter as he ran. The dwarf just calmly followed them at his own pace, his bear in tow.

In their rush, a piece of paper fell out of the elf's carrying sack.

It read:

Contract

Reward:50,000 Gold pieces

Destroy Defias base camp, leave no survivors and retrieve black powder stolen from Booty Bay.

Agents: Nellera Brightarc

Karkon Irongrasp

Grundy Blackfinger Jr.

This is the sole property of the swords and science for hire mercenary group:

LEGION

End of Prologue

And ther you have it, I hope to keep this from dieing like my last fic. Hopefully.........Constructive criticisms are gladly accepted. Flame me all you want, Jut tell me why you hate my writing. I know I am not great at this, so every bit of advice will help me improve. Please and Thanks to ya'll