(AN: I'm sure many of you have found Melissa Redmane to be "boring", since most Warcraft fans find everything that i like [the Light, shamanism, the Vrykul, Northrend, the Tauren, humans, Cataclysm, Thrall, Tyrande, Malfurion, etc.] to be boring, and everything that i hate [Garrosh, Illidan, the Void-lords, Sylvanas, the Nightbourne, Suramar, Mists of Pandaria, Burning Crusade, etc.] to be amazing and interesting. Well, i threw in a bit of a monkey wrench into the story at this point, if that makes it "interesting" enough for you.)

(If any of you from the Exodar server on the Alliance side are reading this [which is no one, likely], this is the origin of this character's name, and the biggest in-joke in the world. Seriously, nobody could have guessed it without having it explained: so here we have this story which might shed some light on the origin of said name.)


Tharbin

Over the next few years, radical changes occurred in Melissa Field's life. Within three years, the spritely little girl began to come into her own: though she was still rather thin, she grew to a respectable height. But more than Melissa's stature changed in those three years. The rumors from the south became much more than simply rumors. From the wharf at Southshore came ships from Stormwind full of civilians, terrified civilians who had lost their homes. The chapel at Melissa's village was filled with refugees, and many people took the refugees into their houses, the Field family included. They spoke stories of giant green monsters, a great horde of savage warriors that had burned the Kingdom of Stormwind.

"They're monsters," the people said. "They devour everything in their way, these savage green-skins. They'll be coming here, make no mistake. They'll come here, and then we'll all be destroyed!"

The months that followed saw Hillsbrad in a frenzy of activity. Soldiers of Lordaeron, knights from the Northern boroughs, men-at-arms from the villages and country-side, were mustering for war. Melissa's family was not being pressed for service, as Colin Field was a miner and was needed by the King's army to mine ores for the making of swords, shields and armor.

But as the months turned to years, it seemed that war would visit this land very soon. Another three years passed and suddenly black ships appeared off the shore of Southshore. On a clear day, one could see them in the distance, like a haze dotting the blue-gray sea. Hundreds of ships under red banners bearing a black, horned icon that was unknown in the seven Eastern Kingdoms.

The people were mostly left for themselves, as the soldiers were fighting the enemy on the front-lines. Unfortunately, Colin Field was often away with the King's army as a miner. In the village, Melissa and her mother Maryem had the run of the house to themselves; but every day was filled with trepidation over the worry for their father and husband. More than often they, along with the rest of the village, gathered in the chapel to pray for the protection of the soldiers of Lordaeron.

On one such day they were assembled, earnestly praying for the protection of their loved ones. Both of Hannah's parents had joined the King's army, and she stayed at the Field house with Melissa and her mother. Today most of the village were gathered together in the chapel, led by Father Preston, in earnest prayer.

"Today," Father Preston said. "We remember our brothers and sisters in the King's army. They fight for our freedom, and for the safety of our land from the Horde. The Holy Light is with us, for we uphold the Three Virtues: every man and woman in the King's army shows great respect for our lives, and the lives of all those who were destroyed in the siege of Stormwind, and for the future safety of Lordaeron. Our soldiers are determined to give everything in defense of our land. And it is with compassion for our people that we will not repay destruction with more destruction, but bring about a swift and just end to the Horde, one that is met with mercy and not the savagery they brought upon Stormwind."

Suddenly a loud scoffing sound was heard from the entrance of the chapel. All eyes turned thither, where they saw Lillian Puck standing in the entrance of the chapel. She had never in living memory attended chapel, not even when the war with the Horde began. This was certainly a surprise.

"Fools, the lot of you!" she said. "You sit here in your chapel, chanting and mumbling, thinking your precious Light will save you? Ha! The Horde destroyed Stormwind, turned the Black Morass into a blasted wasteland. There is no power in the Light: there is no light! There is only one true, efficacious power in this world: the burning shadow. That is the power that the Horde serves! You are all going to die, all of you! Your men are not coming back from war, and you - women, children, old, young - you will all burn!"

"This is a meeting of peace, Lillian," Father Preston spoke. "We are here to pray for the safe return of our brothers and sons. I will ask you kindly to leave and not trouble us any further."

"Shut up, Lillian!" mocked old lady Puck. "That's all you priests and prelates ever tell me! You have not the balls to face a true servant of the shadow! You feed these people lies! Yes, lies. You tell them that they are safe, that in the Light, their simple lives have some meaning. It is nothing! You are all food for the burning shadow: we all are! Soon this world will be devoured! You will all sink into the nameless void!"

"Take her away!" a woman from the crowd of devotees cried.

"We'll have no more of this!" another said.

"Silence me all you want," Lillian shouted as two young men seized her by the arms and dragged her out of the chapel. "But the shadow is stronger than your precious light. You will all die!"

Unfortunately, the mood was spoiled by Lillian Puck's interruption. Everyone went back to their houses, with Melissa trailing on behind her mother and Hannah as they returned home: only passively hearing the conversation that went on between Hannah and her mother.

"Why is she so mean?" Hannah asked.

"Not entirely sure," Maryem replied. "I've heard that she was a Kirin Tor mage who was banished from Dalaran. Another story said that she was driven out of the last village she lived in because of her...unusual habits. Others say that her life is a sad story, and that she's been bitter about it ever since. Whatever it was, it's a great thing to make anyone that bitter."

"It seems unfair, though," Hannah stated. "That she would spread her hurt to other people, rather than trying to help people."

At this point, Melissa paused, turned around, and walked back into the chapel. Father Preston noticed her approach.

"This is highly inappropriate, my child," he said.

"Why?" Melissa asked. "It's been, what, six years since I began learning under you?"

"Yes," Father Preston replied. "Now, you are a young woman. If it weren't for the War, I would have suggested that your father find you a husband."

Melissa grinned. "He'd tell you that he intends for me to be a scholar in Dalaran."

"A prestigious goal," Father Preston said. "And an expensive one. Not everyone is allowed permission to study in the city of mages. Doubtless you will learn much about the Holy Light from the many tomes in the library of Dalaran."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Melissa replied. "What old lady Puck said today, during the service..."

"Oh, about the burning shadow coming to devour us?" Father Preston asked.

"Is it true?" Melissa asked.

Father Preston made sure that the chapel was empty, then spoke; though he did not look directly at Melissa as he spoke to her.

"There are rumors," Father Preston began. "That the orcs, the green-skinned monsters of the Horde, do not worship the Light, but a strange power, the power of demons: the power of the Fel. Perhaps this is the burning shadow of which Lillian Puck speaks."

"Is it stronger, father?" Melissa asked. "I...I don't mean to doubt the Light, but my father is working the mining camps of the King's army. I want him to come home safely."

"Well, every light has a shadow," Father Preston evasively replied. "Some scholars say that every power has some equal and opposite counter-balance."

"What do you believe?" Melissa asked, insistent.

"I believe that the Light grows in strength through the actions of the devout," Father Preston stated gravely. "In these dark times, it's easy to lose faith. But now is the time when faith must grow stronger. One who doubts cannot act, but those who act in faith will find that the Light makes all things possible. Does that answer your question?"

"Thank you, father," Melissa smiled.

"Now go on, then, child," Father Preston said. "Your mother is waiting for you. Furthermore, I think we should see less of each other from now on."

"What are you saying?" Melissa asked, her smile fading.

"You'll always be welcome at the chapel," Father Preston said. "But you're almost a grown woman, now. If we continue seeing each other, people will talk."

"Everyone in the village knows us," Melissa chuckled. "They know what we do. What could they say?"

"You can't be this naive, child," Father Preston shook his head. "Do you know what men and women do when they're alone?"

"Yes, Hannah told me about it," Melissa stated. Then her eyes widened as she realized what was being said. "Oh, Light's mercy! No, of course not! I mean, you're like an uncle to me. Why would I ever..."

"Of course you wouldn't, child," Father Preston replied. "And neither would I. Despite what Lillian Puck says, not every priest takes advantage of his flock. But it is not proper that we keep meeting like this."

"What about my training?" Melissa asked. "I want to learn to use the Light to help people, like you helped Hannah."

"And you will, Light willing," Father Preston said. "But not under my tutelage." Melissa lowered her gaze. "Do not be sad, child. There are many other prelates in Lordaeron, ones with more knowledge than I have. You will be well-taught. Besides, if you, perchance, are unable to go to the Temple of Light in Stratholme, you can borrow any of my books at any time you want."

"I'd rather learn from you," Melissa insisted. "I know you, I trust you."

"I know you do, child," Father Preston sighed. "But when a woman comes to your age, there are certain things that are expected of her. A young, unmarried woman cannot be paying visits alone to an older man who is not her father." Melissa sighed, her eyes falling to the ground. Another beloved person was disappearing from her life, it seemed. The words of Lillian Puck came back into mind, taunting her, filling her mind with doubt.

But then other words appeared.

"May the Light be with you," Father Preston said, holding up his hand in a gesture of blessing. She nodded, then turned to leave.


But as the days of this awful, bloody war continued, hope seemed to wain. The black dots on the edge of the sea's horizon became nearer and nearer. In a few weeks, they were now visible as massive war-ships. Then the lights came. Every night lights filled the beautiful, beloved forests of Hillsbrad, and the stillness of the night was filled with the endless pounding of drums and deep, harsh, guttural voices chanting in a tongue that none in the village knew. Those who dared to venture out into the woods, whether by day or by night, never came back. Those who remained within the village feared an attack at any moment. The poorer ones kept their pitch-forks, hammers, hoes, spades, clubs and spears within reach, ready to defend themselves in case of an attack: those with better weapons had volunteered to join the King's army.

Scant news reached the village from without, but the lights from the orc encampments beyond their borders made them fearful that the King's army had been defeated. Every night, they fell asleep to the sound of drums echoing through the woods, pounding out the hours until some great doom would be visited upon them. In the Field house, Melissa was paralyzed with fear every night. Her father was away, dead for all she knew, and merciless beasts waited in her beloved woods, ready to fall down upon them at any moment and reek destruction and chaos. The words of Lillian Puck came uninvited into her mind.

"Light, give me strength," she prayed. "Let my father come home soon. Let peace return to my homeland."

The days wore on, sullen and gray with the smoke from burning villages: yet for some reason, their village was spared. The nights were filled with the sound of drums and war chants in the orcish tongue: yet still their village survived. Then one night there was the sound of battle, of steel clashing against steel. When the dawn came, there was still smoke in the sky, but during the nights the drums ceased. News finally began to pour in: there was no 'King's army', but a great Alliance of all the kingdoms, of men, Elves, Dwarves and Gnomes. The Alliance had struck a mighty blow against the Horde, who were now leaderless, shattered and in retreat. By and by the armies of the Alliance drove the Horde out of Lordaeron, continuing southward, pushing them back into the hell from whence they came.

But every victory comes with a cost, and this cost was great. The darkest months were over, and in time most of the Alliance forces returned to their homes. Many eyes in the village were filled with tears: tears of joy upon being reunited with their loved ones, and tears of sadness upon hearing the news that theirs had fallen in battle against the Horde. For the Field family, the tears they shed were tears of joy. Colin Field returned home wounded, but with a smile on his face: Light be praised, he was alive and his family had survived as well. The wounds he had received were at the hands of the orcs during a raid on the Alliance camp where he had been stationed; they had attacked the miners as well as the soldiers.

"Oh, the monsters!" wept Maryem. "Did they have no mercy?"

"Not an ounce," Colin shook his head. "But these few scratches are nothing, my love. I'm more than lucky to have come back to find you both alive and well." He then wrapped Maryem and Melissa in his arms.

But his wounds were more than nothing, as time would soon tell. Colin was optimistic in his surviving the war with the Horde, what those thereafter called the Second War. He bore his scars with pride, and, for the rest of his life, would show them off at the inn in Southshore to anyone who asked about the War. But he was not the same. Over the first couple of weeks, he worked hard at his job in the mines, trying to make up for the time taken away. But the wounds he bore made him slower than before, weaker than before: he could not work the same trying job at the same hours.

Something had to be done in the meantime.


Two years had passed since the Horde ships appeared in the bay of Southshore, signaling the start of the Second War. Melissa was now eighteen years old, no longer the little girl who ran through the woods of Hillsbrad, but a beautiful young woman. Her responsibilities had grown since the War ended, as her mother and father were older and not as strong as in their younger days: especially her father, due to his wounds. Thus it was that she often went to the market to buy food for the family, as her mother was often busy at home. Such it was on this day, coming home from the market with a basket full of food: bread, vegetables, meats and fruits. As she entered the door, she saw that her parents were entertaining guests.

"Oh, I didn't know we were having guests over," Melissa stated. One of the guests, she realized, was a young man about her own age. Though she didn't have the same strong desire for marriage as her friend Hannah Farmer, she still became strangely self-conscious about her appearance whenever she passed a handsome young man in the streets, or if their eyes per-chanced to meet during chapel.

"Melissa," Colin spoke. "I'm glad you're here. You know the Redmanes, I'm sure?"

"The farmers from the north-side of the village?" Melissa nodded. "Yes, I know about them."

The two guests arose. One was an older man with a long strawberry blond beard that was going gray. The younger man was his son, whose hair was more red than blond, and hadn't fully grown into his beard yet. Both of them were well-built and ruddy, from years of working on their farm on the northern hills. She had often passed the Redmane farm in her childhood, on her way to the woods. She knew that they had a large family, but, as hers was one of the more important families in the village, she did not spend much time with them.

"Hello there," the elder of the two men greeted. "My name is Talus Redmane. This is my son Tharbin." He gestured to the young man standing beside him, who smiled at Melissa: he still had all of his teeth, which surprised Melissa. Most stories she heard about farming folk were that they were ignorant, toothless mongrels.

"I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Redmane," Melissa returned. "If I may ask, what's the meaning of this visit?"

"Oh," Talus replied. "Your father and I have entered into negotiations of a betrothal."

"Whose betrothal?" Melissa asked.

"Why, yours," Talus said. "To my son."

Melissa had to catch the basket as it fell from her hands in shock. She didn't make an answer, for her mouth was hanging open. After the initial shock, she stammered.

"M-Marriage?" she asked. "You're...talking about...marriage?"

"Yes, that's right," Colin nodded. "Well, you can't stay with us forever. The Redmanes are good people, fine reputation. Tharbin is a hard worker; he'll provide for you. Besides, this is just a betrothal: there's no wedding being planned right away. Over the next few months, you'll get to know each other before you're married."

Melissa did not make an answer.

"The girl's so moved, she's speechless!" Talus exclaimed with a chuckle. "Well, I think we should be going. We can continue our business another time, eh, Colin? There's ground to be tilled. Come along, Tharbin."

"Good day, Melissa," Tharbin said as he and his father were leaving. "We'll see each other soon." She returned an uneasy smile and nodded at them, stepping aside as they passed out the door. Once they left, Melissa closed the door behind them as Maryem entered the living room.

"You're back," Maryem said with a worried tone in her voice. "Listen, dear, it wasn't an easy decision."

"Is that so?" Melissa asked, trying her best to keep her voice from cracking. "Well, it certainly sounded easy."

"Melissa, please," Maryem continued. "Things aren't the way they used to be. Your father can't work as hard as he used to, but that doesn't stop the extra expenses. It's hard enough to support a house of three with so little work, but now there's the new taxes."

"Damn the new taxes!" Colin grumbled. "Why they couldn't just get rid of them all instead of building the internment camps and footing us with the bill is beyond me."

"We simply can't afford it, the money's just not there!" Maryem continued.

"I was going to go to the Violet City!" Melissa finally broke, tears streaming down her face. "I was going to be educated as a scholar. Now you want me to give all that up and get married to someone I barely know?"

"Tharbin is a good man," Colin said. "A hard worker, and that's a fine compliment to give a farmer, coming from a miner. He'll make a fine husband."

"But..."

"Dammit, girl, do you think this is easier for me?" Colin exploded, his face flushed. "I sweated in the mines for eighteen years to elevate my girl to a noble profession, and all of that thrown away because..." He paused, unwilling to admit that he had been to weak to work.

Melissa did not respond, but placed the basket back down and stormed out of the house. Picking up her skirt, she ran as fast as she could until she found herself back in the glade: the same glade where she had first heard the voice of the Light. It was not as she remembered it: most the grass had been beaten down to bare earth by the iron-shod feet of the orcs, and some of the trees had been cut down and hewn into spiked logs for palisade walls (some of the pieces of which were still standing). Into the midst of the bare, lifeless glade Melissa ran, tears streaming down her eyes. She threw herself to the center of the ground, gazing up at the sky: the sun was hidden behind the trees, partly on its way into the west.

"Is this what you want of me?" she asked, her voice breaking and her eyes streaming with tears. "You told me to obey my parents. They want to take me away from you! I can't do it, I don't wanna do it!" She threw herself onto the bare earth, hot tears streaming down her face. She did not move, nor felt she the desire to move. All she wanted was to stay here and weep until the Light spoke again.

For how long she remained there she neither knew nor cared. Eventually, however, she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. Then she heard a familiar voice: the voice of Father Preston.

"What's wrong, child?" he asked, though she was clearly not a child. With tears still hot upon her pale cheeks, Melissa told Father Preston of what she had been told about her future.

"Most people find marriage to be a happy thing," Father Preston stated. "Why is it not so for you?"

"I would be giving up my education as a scholar," Melissa bemoaned. "My future as a scribe would be forever gone. And I don't think I could serve the Light and be somebody's wife."

"Nonsense," Father Preston returned.

"Aren't priests supposed to be celibate?" asked Melissa. "I can't serve the Light and be married, can I, father?"

"There is some debate about the legitimacy of celibacy..."

"Answer me plainly, father!" Melissa insisted.

"Look, it doesn't matter," Father Preston said. "All those who walk the path of the Light, living by the Three Virtues, are blessed by the Light. Perhaps your purpose is to be somebody's wife, but that does not mean that the Light has abandoned you."

Melissa threw herself back onto the ground and buried her face in her arms. "I wish things were simpler."

"So do I, child," Father Preston sympathetically replied. "And so do many others. But this is a complicated world: all we can do is what the Light is asked of us. Perhaps this too is a trial sent to you by the Light to test your tenacity and determination."

Slowly, Melissa rose from where she lay, wiping her eyes of the tears. "Pray for me, please."

"I will, child," Father Preston said. "I always have and always will."


(AN: Though it's basically just a few paragraphs, I was able to dedicate some time to describing what life would have been like during the invasion of the Horde. As I've seen the deleted scenes from the Warcraft movie [and liked it and the base film], i based the atmosphere of the Orc camps on the deleted scene where Grom tells Durotan and Orgrim [or Lolgrim as he was in that scene] about the Fel. So much for "we will never be slaves", silly paste-eater! But the whole scene of orcs speaking in their ancient tongue and tribalistic drums beating throughout the night helped to create the fearful atmosphere that must have stricken fear into the hearts of many humans living in Hillsbrad.)

(I noticed that i failed to mention Perenholde, who might have been considered the "ruler" of the Hillsbrad region more so than King Terenas. Of course, as i stated in my Soul Calibur fics, many things happen concurrently to the main story: I've tended to write things that are pertinent to the main plot, but that doesn't mean those other things didn't happen.)