As Rywen neared the horde capital of Orgrimmar she knew exactly what she needed and what she was looking for. She was on a mission to go compete in the argent tournament in Icecrown to prove herself to Azeroth as a formidable opponent and receive honor and recognition in the horde. Her purpose in the city was to spend a few weeks preparing for her expedition by catching up with old friends and getting some new armor and supplies. She was a blood elf, with a tall, lean frame, vibrant red hair that spent it's time in a ponytail, and had a fierce and determined look on her face. Her eyes were something that she was grateful for. She hated the sickly fel green most elves had and was thankful that hers had been turned blue by her resurrection. The only drawback is that at first glance many mistook her for a high elf, although under further inspection it was obvious to see that she was a blood elf. To many members of her race she was considered to be beautiful, a picture of death itself. Many members of her faction were attracted to her although she did not concern herself with the thought of being in a relationship. Once she was ripped from her life of a warrior and enslaved as one of Arthas's dogs she learned to feel little compassion for others. She was not accepted immediately into the horde, although once it was shown that she had broken off her allegiance to Arthas she had been considered as a useful ally. A death knight's presence was un welcomed by most, although there was those who saw her true potential.

She was traveling on her bronze drake from a mission that she had in Rachet. Some goblins were having trouble with some of the townsfolk and asked her to see to it for some gold. Although that particular city was deemed neutral, it was not unheard of for the inhabitants to dispose of one another when the going got rough. She shook her head remembering that the goblins had her end some meaningless gnome who had "stolen" their new engineering idea.

She finally saw Orgrimmar come into sight and urged her drake to speed up. She landed at the roost near the flight path above the city and tossed the young Orc stable hand a silver piece to give her mount feed and water. She quickly jogged over to the lift nearby and decided that she needed to go to the bank first to extract some ore and blacksmith supplies.

It had been taken into account over the past few months that she was desperately in need of some new armor. Being independent as always Rywen wanted to make her armor herself before spending an obscene amount of gold in the auction house. Nearing the lift, Rywen heaved her heavy backpacks over her shoulder and leapt onto it just before it took off.

As Rywen walked at a brisk pace through the crowed alleyways of the city she considered going to the stables to retrieve her mount although thought better of it. She knew that on foot she would be able to dodge around many of the milling citizens, but on a mount she would be forced to trudge behind everyone to avoid trampling them. The bank finally came into sight with its protruding spikes and harsh look that everything in the city had.

The goblins who ran it were known for their greed in charging the users there for every little bit of space that their vault took up. She gave the password to the nearest goblin and was lead to her small hoard of items. Rifling through the unorganized mess she managed to find her hammer along with a few bars of saronite with a copious amount of nuggets and ore that would take forever to smelt. After loading her supplies into her backpack she went to pick it up and nearly toppled over in surprise at how heavy it was. She steeled herself saying that this was just a workout. That might break her back in the process, she thought as she groaned inwardly.

The walk towards the blacksmith was something that Rywen did not ever want to do again. The exhaustion and newfound hatred of the citizens of Orgrimmar did not mix well with the realization of the fact that she would be having to spend a few days making her armor in the blazing heat of this particular part of Kalimdor.

She had finally made it to the blacksmith when she saw the bane of her existence.

Lets just say that Rywen had a temper, many joked that it was her red hair, although it was really the personality she had been born with. When she had first come to the city and joined the horde she had made some enemies. Particularly with the female elves of her race. The fact that Rywen had an unearthly beauty to her and the fact she had several horde falling head over heels for her did not put her off to a great start. Jealousy was common among the blood elves and when Rywen met this certain elf she found that such an emotion could go very far.

The females name was Alyssa Brightdawn, even the name sounded girly, Rywen thought. The girl had blond flowing hair that was adorned with a hideous bejeweled headband. She was wearing a ridiculous set of red armor that hardly left anything to imagination. Rywen observed Alyssa with disgust, Rywen just thought that the other elf was an idiot for dressing in such a way. The fool even went to battle dressed like that. How did the girl expect to survive a true fight looking like that, one throw of a knife or swing of a sword would end her miserable life in a second.

" What are you doing here?" Alyssa spat.

" Why should I tell a wretch like you?" Rywen countered.

" Mabye some of us should learn to respect their greaters." Came the reply.

" You wish."

Rywen turned back to start sorting through her supplies when she heard a movement that was coming towards her.

With the trying and exausting day Rywen had so far she decided to do something she might regret. Summoning her runicpower she turned around and punched Alyssa in the face with as much force as she could muster.