((A/N: So, I will admit I was a bit rushed with myself to write the prologue and get it out there. Looking back I'll probably be rewriting it and tweaking a few minor things, mostly grammar errors. I knew if I didn't get that chapter posted I was never going to post this at all, sort of self motivation. And seeing how many people have this as an alerted and favorites story, that's even greater motivation for me, so thank you all, and hello to my new readers!))
Davyn looked down on the Elven forest of Ashenvale from his perch high up in he trees. He knew that he was near where the elf he was looking for had to be. He had already found a hastily made camp that bore traces of elven occupation. The human couldn't help but wonder why she was camped so far away from an elven settlement, where she could have protection. Perhaps she was paranoid of being found by whoever it was that had hired him. Well, she didn't know it yet, but that hadn't worked out too well.
He turned in his perch as he heard loud Orcish war cries getting closer to where he was hiding. Davyn's eyes narrowed as he saw them crashing through the bushes chasing after a Night Elf woman. He paused for a moment, looking at her, and seeing that she was running directly towards the camp he had found. He knew that it had to be the woman that he was looking for. He growled and dropped from his perch to a lower branch and balanced himself there, drawing his two poisoned daggers from their sheathes. He waited for the Night Elf to pass directly under him before he leapt out from the tree and landed directly on one of the four orcs that were pursuing her and slipped his right dagger in-between the brute's ribs to pierce his heart and brought his left hand across, the dagger cleanly slicing his throat open. The orc died with a reflexive gurgle, but it had already been dead before it knew what happened.
He rolled backwards and stood up, turning around to face the orc that had turned around to face him as the last one continued to chase after the Night Elf. He drew one of the smaller knives from his belt and whipped it end over end at the orc, who deflected it with its shield and roared defiantly at him. Davyn pulled his daggers from the orc's corpse on the ground and turned to face the living one. "Alright then big guy. Let's see what you've got." He muttered under his breath, taking a defensive stance.
The orc circled around him, carefully planning its first attack, which was a rare feat for its race. Davyn carefully watched him and rolled out of the way as it suddenly charged at him. He stabbed out with his knife as he rolled and caught the orc in the weak point of its armor in its side just below its armpit. It howled in fury and whipped its arm, shield first to catch him. He sidestepped and weaved out of the way as it let loose what would have been a devastating whirlwind of blows.
The orc was starting to feel the effects of the poison that was just beginning to course through its system, weakening him. Its body started to feel heavy and its movements got sluggish. Davyn sprinted forward and jumped up, kicking the orc in its forehead and sending it sprawling backwards before it could do anything. He pounced on it and slit his throat before turning around to sprint off in the direction of the last orc and his target.
Davyn made his way through the thick brush of the forest and entered the clearing of the camp where he saw the last orc being violently ripped to shreds by a massive bear, with the Night Elf nowhere to be found. He skidded to a halt and took a defensive stance as the gutted orc dropped to the ground dead, and the bear turned to face him.
The bear seemed to pause for a moment and then slowly shifted into the Night Elf woman he had been looking for. He grimaced, 'Great, a druid… This could be a problem.'
"Thank you for your assistance human." She started, in strained common.
Davyn looked her over and replied in Darnassian, "You are most welcome." He then looked at her side and saw that she was bleeding heavily from her side. He looked in her eyes and saw that she was suddenly very tired, and looked like she was drained of mana and unable to heal herself. The wound must have been deep, or poisoned. He only hoped it wasn't both. "Can I look at your side? I'm a herbalist and a medic."
The Night Elf looked at him carefully and then nodded. She seemed to be a little surprised that he could speak Darnassian, it was not an easy tongue, especially not by humans. She also realized if she tried to heal herself she'd probably only make it worse in the condition that she was in. "We should go to my camp. It's safer there. It's just up ahead."
Davyn nodded and then walked forward, picking her up carefully and walking to the camp. There was no way he was just going to let her walk, she had looked unsteady simply standing. It only took two minutes of walking to get to the camp. He looked at a spread out bed roll under the shade of a tree, and he set her down carefully on it. He started to undo the bindings of her leather chest piece, and she was far too wounded to protest. He found the wound easily, and he had been right, it was deep in her side and the Night Elf had been lucky that it hadn't hit anything vital. He checked her over for any smaller wounds but there was just the one. He reached into one of the bags that was securely attached to his belt and pulled out a clear vial full of a pinkish liquid. He pulled the cork and put it to the Night Elf's lips. "Drink." He told her, and she did.
Her eyes fluttered to stay open but she quickly fell asleep, pulled into unconsciousness by the potion that he had given her. It simply made it easier for him to treat her wound when she was asleep. The potion also had a mixture of healing herbs in it to replace the blood she had lost. He quickly set himself to work. He pulled out another vial full of a clear liquid, a roll of embersilk bandages, and a needle and thread. He didn't know much magic, and what he did know was certainly not for healing purposes, so the wound was going to have to be fixed the old fashioned way.
He cut off a section of the embersilk bandage and then poured some of the white liquid onto it, carefully washing the wound. It would have been highly painful if she was awake, and screams of pain both broke his concentration and risked them being found, but he had to disinfect the wound somehow. He then poured some of the potion that she had been drinking directly onto the wound, which brutally began to regenerate flesh and repair itself. It didn't close all the way, and there was still a noticeable gap of flesh, but that was going to have to be fixed by some sort of magic, there was only so much herbalism could do. For that time, he threaded the thread into the needle and began to sew the flesh together. He finished that rather quickly, and then he wrapped her side with the clean roll of bandages just to be sure. He checked his work and then cleaned up the blood.
Davyn looked around to find the unconscious Night Elf's bags and found them hidden high up in the tree she was under. He leapt up and grabbed the closest solid branch and lifted himself up, grabbing the bag and searching through it. He found the information he was looking for, a letter that was sealed with wax emblazoned with a twisting dragon. He put the bag back carefully and then opened the letter, reading it and growling angrily. He suddenly realized who he had been hired by, and why he had been hired.
This changed things.
