THE PRAXEUM CHRONICLES
"Book One : The Blessed Light"

A World of Warcraft tale
by Stephen R. Sobotka / © 2009

DISCLAIMER : This story is an original prose based on situations, settings, places and themes from the MMORPG game "World of Warcraft", by Blizzard Entertainment Ltd. All characters that appear within -- with the exception of all original characters created by the author -- are the property of said licenses, and are used here without knowledge or permission of same.

This story is the rightful property of the author; all original characters and the plot depicted within are protected by copyright law. This story was produced to entertain fans of the original game, and is in no way, shape or form intended to be published for monetary gain. Please do not sue.

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Eleven

At the far southern end of the Wetlands -- the very end of the dwarven lands of Khaz Modan -- it would seem to be a lonely place to put any sort of holdings, much less a functioning sea harbor.

But for the Alliance, it was clearly a key place to install not only a serviceable harbor, but also a stout fortification that allowed even the most rugged of travelers that crossed the beast and crocolisk-infested swampland leading down from the upper tiers of Loch Modan.

Menenthil Harbor and her garrison also served as a beachhead defense against the remnants of an orc contingent, gnoll and murloc tribes that peppered the wetland plains for miles around. Travelers that braved the roads from the Arathi Highlands and from the lands of the Loch often ran a gambit of hostile creatures; from spiders to raptors and even some ugly ogres that made a dismal living among the hills bordering them.

It was here at Menenthil, that Liam and his companions had come, to seek passages northwards to the lower lands of the once-wide and proud kingdom of Lordaeron . . . the next barrier to their ultimate goal of the last pocket of the elven kingdom of Quel'thalas.

oOoOo

Captain Handel Single and his First Mate Crispy were sitting at their usual table -- nursing each a pint of dwarf-draughts -- and clearly expecting to have an uneventful close to their evening routine. The swarthy, dark-skinned captain had the look of a true scoundrel; grizzled and unkempt, yet the cut of his eye and the easy-yet-alert way he held himself spoke volumes of experience. There wasn't much in this world that Captain Handel hadn't seen, having traveled far and wide across all the known seas.

Yet, it was a bit of a surprise, when an armored knight and three cloaked strangers came to stand in front of his table. "Captain Handel Single, I presume?"

Looking up at them, Captain Handel muttered, "I might be. Who're you to ask?"

"A petitioning customer," the knight said, casting his hood back before making a querying gesture to the empty seat in front of them.

"Go ahead . . . no one's using it." Tipping his mug back for a swallow, Captain Handel grimaced then asked, "So, who are you strangers?"

"I am Liam mac Roi," Liam said, easing into the seat. "These are my companions; Rhandall, Hanna and . . . Freya."

Captain Handel looked at them in turn, taking in the stern looks of the two dwarves and the distant, aloofness of what appeared to be a female elf behind them. "Ah . . . say no more." Captain Handel motioned to the silent, towering bald man seated to his left. "My mate Crispy, here . . . he keeps a good ear to the harbor walls. Tells me you're seeking passage out of Menenthil, to the seaside village at South Shore."

"Yes, indeed. If you have a fast ship--?"

"Fast ship!?" Captain Handel gave Liam a look of mild disbelief. "Surely, you've heard of my ship, the Eon Osprey?"

Shaking his head, Liam replied, "Should I have, Captain?"

Rhandall muttered, "Ye might wanna clue us in. Not all o' us are dedicated followers o' sailin' ships, lad."

With a touch of pride and sarcasm, Captain Handel said, "It's a ship that made the Menenthil Run to Stormwind in under half a fortnight, dwarf! And that was against the wind." He gave Liam another squared look. "She's fast enough for you, I wager. What are you taking with you?"

"Only passengers and our mounts and wagon. Myself, Freya, the dwarves . . . and, no questions asked," Liam said pointedly.

Captain Handel caught the meaning in Liam's tone. "Well, then . . . I believe that will be the trick of it. Fine, but the lack of our curiosity is going to cost you, Knight. Ten-thousand gold. All in advance."

At that, Hanna gasped. "Ten-thousand--? We could almost buy our own ship fer that!"

"Are you gonna sail it, sugar-britches?" Handel said with mock sweetness, grinning at her indignant look.

Rhandall slapped the table top and leaned in close to the swarthy human. "If need be . . . or we canna just hire a crew ourselves," he hissed.

At that, Captain Handel and Crispy both laughed. "Well, good luck with that! There's hardly a man with sea legs left in Menenthil -- much less all of Azeroth -- that isn't already crewed elsewhere or been snapped up by the Alliance Navy." Handel added with a scowl, "Been like that since they were attacked by the Scourge, not long ago."

At that, Liam and the others stiffened. "The Scourge? They have attacked Stormwind?"

"Just that new fancy harbor King Wrynn had made," Captain Handel growled. "He's set to build up something big . . . and anyone with the experience who's not attached to any free ship or crew, they get wrapped up and pressed into service for the Grand Alliance." He gave the group an arched look. "So . . . still think you can find a ship and sail it, Grumpy?" he said to Rhandall.

The dwarf snorted. "Grumpy, indeed! Why I--!"

"Rhandall," Liam said, placing a hand on his shoulder to halt his tirade. When the dwarf was silent, the paladin looked at Captain Handel and said, "We can pay you two-thousand now, plus fifteen more, when we have arrived at South Shore."

Handal arched one eyebrow. "Seventeen, eh?" He glanced at Crispy, who just shrugged. "Okay, you got yourselves a ship. We'll make our way as soon as you're ready."

Liam nodded and rose to his feet. "We shall join you aboard ship within an hour's time."

oOoOo

After that august meeting at the inn, the company's passage out of Menethil was relatively swift and uneventful.

True to the Captain's word, the Eon Osprey was indeed a fast ship; cutting across the waves like the bird of prey it was named for, easily leaving the shores of the Wetlands far behind as it pointed its bow northwards.

Well into the voyage, Hanna made good her promise to see to the mounts, leaving Liam free to keep an eye on Freaja -- who remained under her cloak-disguise, to keep the human crew from getting too suspicious. Even so, the cover story of Freaja being one of the Quel'dorei on a pilgrimage to Aerie Peak seemed to suffice. Not many among the ship's crew gave her much notice, even with the constant presence of the paladin nearby.

At one point, Liam and Freaja were on the foredeck, watching the flowing seas pass by. Rhandall had joined them, but only after having made another trip to the rail . . . whereupon he promptly emptied his belly over the side.

Wrinkling her nose in distaste, the Sin'dorei woman muttered under her breath, "Must he do that in the open?"

From where Liam was leaning against the side, he shook his head and smiled. "Would you rather he did it below deck, in the ships privy, my Lady? The one we all must share, hm?"

At that, Freaja blanched. "No, thank you."

Staggering up the small stairway from the main deck, the red bearded dwarf grumbled and made a liverish-moan, before he caught the arched look on Freaja's face. "What? I dinnae do it on yer boots this time, lassie," he growled, before promptly letting a belch slip from his lips.

Sighing gustily, Freaja said, "If you'd kindly try to do that elsewhere. Perhaps on the other side of the ship?" Shaking her head crossly, she looked to Liam. "You should have warned me your . . . companion was prone to sea sickness, knight!"

"I had hoped he would not be so affected on this journey, my Lady." Liam crossed his arms over his armored chest. "As it stands, we won't be at sea for much longer." Looking up at the sails, he said, "The winds are swift with us. We should be at South Shore within another day, at the most."

"Well . . . *urp!* tha's all good an' all," Rhandall said. "Bad enough I've got tae suffer like this. This is no way fer a dwarf tae travel! Give me a good Gryffon or a sturdy land mount, an' I'll ne'er complain a whit."

Rolling her eyes a bit, Freaja asked Liam, "What are we to do, once we arrive at our destination, knight? From what I recall, there is little in the way of Alliance holdings in the Arathi highlands, nor general means of travel throughout that region . . . save for what the Horde controls."

Liam nodded. "However, there is a road that leads out and to the north, my Lady. It is a bit of a round-about way, through the plains beneath the Arathi Mountain range, but . . . I do believe it will take us around the Plaguelands, and close to the edges of your people's kingdom."

"If ye were to ask me -- an' ye didn't, lad! -- we could just circumvent all o' that, an' just make fer Aerie Peak," Rhandall said. "There's a flight master there! We could purchase passage on some Gryffons, an' then fly tae that staging point . . . ah, th' one near th' Amani holdings, right?"

At that, Freaja gave a start. "No! You do not want to do that, dwarf," she said. "The Troll lands are not safe for anyone foolish enough to venture that close to it!"

"Perhaps, but that would be bringin' ye that much closer tae yer homeland!"

"Rhandall, Lady Freaja is right . . . I've heard reports of the trolls that live in the Amani forests," Liam said, looking grim. "We'd be better to land there with a full company of knights, warriors and others. We're only four, and certainly no match for any full war band we might encounter."

Freaja shot Rhandall a stern look. "Trust me, what your friend and I say is the truth." She glanced at Liam. "Besides, it may take a while longer but . . . I believe that his plan is the best way."

Grunting, Rhandall just looked upset. "Well, that is just peachy! Takin' th' long way 'round will only put us weeks out from th' Eversong Woods, rather than days! An' I fer one don't like stayin' in these lands, longer than we should be!" He started to pace in front of the paladin and blood elf, making angry gestures with both fists. "We'd be hard pressed, what wi' ogres, wildkin an' worse goin' 'round those mountains, an' further more--ACH!" Suddenly, he jerked back, hopping on one foot as he kicked his foot out to dislodge something from his leg.

"Rhandall, what--?" Liam stopped when he saw something brown and oblong fall to the wood deck with a soft clatter. It suddenly flipped over, and began to scuttle around in a weaving pattern in front of them.

"Ugh! I knew it!!" Rhandall snapped, glaring at the crawling critter. "Roaches! This blasted boat isn't just makin' me sick wi' all th' rockin' . . . it's bloody infested!" With that, the dwarf lifted one foot and took aim at the pest. "Oh, I'll fix ye--!"

"No, don't you dare crush it!" Freaja's outburst startled both Liam and Rhandall, even more when the Sin'dorei woman quickly pushed Rhandall back, before kneeling down on the deck. One hand shot out towards the cockroach; five, slim digits forming a living cage to trap the critter before it could get away. "There, got you!" Cupping her hand, Freaja slowly rose to her feet, giving the dwarf a sharp look as she said, "Ignorant fool! How dare you try to harm an innocent creature?!"

Rhandall sputtered, "Innocent? Creature?! Lass, are ye goin' daft between those pointy ears o' yers?"

"I'm not the one that just tried to kill a creature, who has done no harm to you or anyone else," Freaja said sharply. She then turned her gaze back to the cockroach, and her face filling with a smile as she slowly opened her hand, turning it over to allow the insect to crawl across her palm. "There, there . . . you are safe, little friend. Safer now that I've kept that brute of a dwarf from crushing you." Her eyes lit up as the cockroach slowly began to crawl around her hand and fingers; keeping its place as it decided not to flutter off and seek safety elsewhere.

Watching with some amusement, Liam cocked his head as he watched Freaja soothe the insect. "You are . . . acquainted with such, um, creatures, my Lady?"

Freaja didn't look up, but she nodded as she held up her hand to eye-level. "When I was younger, my family had to have dealings with the Forsaken," she said. "During one such trip to their holdings, I was permitted to witness one of them tame such insects, to turn them into pets." With a soft chuckle, she reached up with one finger and stroked the tip against the cockroach's antennae gently. "I was even allowed to take one back with me to Silvermoon."

Rhandall blanched a bit. "Ye . . . actually kept th' likes o' that, fer a pet!?"

With a gentle laugh, Liam said, "To each their own, my friend." He nodded to Freaja. "Besides, I believe it is . . . quite fitting, that our Lady can find such solace in creatures we would probably never give a second thought about keeping."

Freaja sighed. "It was either that, or mana-wyrmlings," she said, before she put her hand out and made an easy gesture; allowing the cockroach to finally open its wings and fly off to seek a new hiding place in the ship. Making a dusting-off motion with her hands, she said, "Besides, I was taught to respect such creatures. After all, they do not know what they mean to giants like us, so why punish them for it?"

Liam nodded. "So true, my Lady." He looked over, just as Hanna was mounting the steps from the main deck. "Hanna, is everything all right?"

"Aye, Liam. Th' mounts an' th' wagon are all secure," The sturdy-made dwarf woman said. "Though I just had a word wi' th' Cap'n, an' he's only a wee bit concerned wi' a storm his men spied on th' horizon." She nodded towards the north. "Seems t'be a lot o' them comin' up lately."

Liam frowned, and even Freaja looked concerned. "Why is that, I wonder?"

"Accordin' tae th' Cap'n, there's been a lot o' activity dreggin' up cold wind from th' North," Hanna said. "It's wreakin' havoc across most o' th' Northern sea lanes, an' makin' it hard fer e'en the Horde an' th' Alliance t'cross between Azeroth an' Kalimdor. Th' reports from th' trader guilds is e'en worse. Almost every commerce lane is shut down fer the 'nonce."

Rhandall looked to Liam. "Could this be more trouble caused by that blasted Scourge, ye think, Lad?"

Liam shook his head. "When last I spoke to the elders of my order, they mentioned that the Scourge had pulled back to their original holdings; back beyond the northern borders and well within reach of the former hold in Northrend." Crossing his arms, he scowled all the more deeply.

Freaja shook herself. "Do you believe . . . the Scourge is extending their reach, once more?"

"Why would they need tae?" Hanna asked. "Last I heard, th' bloody bastards sacked all o' Lordaeron and Quel'Thalas."

"Aye. what more is there fer them t'take?" Rhandall asked.

Hearing that question, Freaja looked away towards the direction of her homeland; her face turning pale.

"There is much about the Scourge we cannot, do not understand, my friends," Liam said. "Since Arthas' first thrusts into the northern kingdoms laid waste to both his homeland at that of the Highborne, he suddenly stopped his advances and pulled out." He looked grim as he turned and started pacing in front of the trio. "When his forces withdrew back to Northrend, it was said the Scourge appeared to lose all interest in occupying those lands."

"And yes . . . the Scourge still threaten my homeland," Freaja whispered.

Liam stopped, and with a wan smile, he said, "True, but hopefully we shall not have to deal with them, my Lady." Liam explained. "Once we arrive in Southshore, I will inquire to some of the local humans there as to what activity is going on in the surrounding lowlands."

"Is that wise, Lad?" Rhandall asked. "Th' Horde have a few small outposts near Southshore. We'd be askin' fer trouble if we tried t'go over the Arathi mountains, as just us four."

"It may be our only course, Rhandall."

Hanna jabbed Rhandall with her elbow. "Don' go bringin' up Aerie Peak again, cousin! If I know Liam, he's pretty much figured that would take too long t'go that route. As I already knew." Ignoring the black look her cousin gave her, Hanna looked at Liam, asking, "So, if we do go through the Arathi, have ye figured out how we'll get 'round th' Plaguelands, Laddie?"

"If we go as I plan, we should not need to go near the Plaguelands, Hanna." He gave Freaja a reassuring look. "To do so would be suicide. That much, we can all agree on, hm?"

"Yes," Freaja said. "That I do agree."

"Aye," Hanna said, nodding.

Huffing, Rhandall merely jerked his head once. "Oh . . . right, then. But, I still say we're better off goin' t'our homelands instead." Folding his thick arms over his chest, the dwarf snorted and leaned back against the rail.

.

oOoOo

.

In the far northern lands, in the former Highborne city of Silvermoon . . .

Coming into through the doorway of the low apartments, the tall, cloaked figure of a Blood Elven ranger paused to nod at a pair of leather-clad guards before continuing on inside. Ruddy-faced and sporting a wild fox-tail of blue-black tresses, the ranger marched into the lower salon beyond -- ignoring the rich decor and comfortable furniture -- before mounting a spiral stair leading upwards into a second floor.

In due course, he stalked to a stop at the edge of a wide inner chamber; the majority of which was taken up with twin tables, covered with wide parchment maps and smaller piles of scrolls, papers and bound books. The walls were lined with weapons -- some old enough to have been wielded during the Third War, others new enough to have come off the forges just the other day.

Standing at one of the tables was another Farstrider; bearing the flash of a Ranger-Captain. Clad in leather armor and wearing a Sin'dorei warblade and quiver of warshafts, this blood-elf had his sun-blond hair combed back in a rakish angle, nearly covering his right eye as he stared down at one of the wide maps spread before him. Behind this elf, a pair of younger blood-elf rangers stood on attendance; turning with their hands on their weapons as they took notice of the dark-haired Ranger.

Not bothering to acknowledge them, Parin Wildheart cleared his throat. "Forgive my rushed appearance, Captain Sunblight."

Without turning around, the sun-tressed Ranger merely nodded. "You are forgiven, Lieutenant. Report?"

"Captain . . . I--." He swallowed thickly. "I have a report from one of your watcher posts; delivered by sunhawk just within the past hour."

At that, the Ranger-Captain's voice pitched a bit higher. "Oh? From which posting, Lieutenant?"

Parin stepped past the two rangers at Captain Sunblight's back, moving to stand at the table as he said, "From the watchers near the Stranglethorn camps, near the human lands called Westfall. They . . . they report, that they have found the group of Ulgo'm slavers in the wilds." He paused. "Every one, slaughtered to the last!"

At that, Jakhor Sunblight did turn his head to stare at Parin; his dark-green eyes wide and cold as he slowly rose from his bend-position over the map. "Killed? Every last one?"

"Yes, sir. Not one survived . . . it is believed they were attacked by Alliance forces," Parin said. "Surprise attack, during the night."

Straightening up completely, Jakhor tipped his head to the side as if weighing his next words. "And, what of the slaver's . . . cargo?"

"Nothing but empty cages, Sir." Parin paused again.

"Empty," Jakhor said flatly. "No bodies to be found?"

"None, but . . . sir, part of the report came from Captain Neph'anis. He said . . . he said that he was pursuing--."

"Pursuing!?" The Ranger-Captain's voice was sharp as a whip crack. "Pursuing whom, Lieutenant?"

Trying to muster his courage, Parin said softly, "He is pursuing, the sin'osa, sir."

At that, Jakhor Sunblight's face transformed from surprised pique to outright murderous rage. "WHAT!?!" He whirled away and, in a motion too quick to follow, he lashed out and smote the nearest young ranger a hard blow across his face. Unable to protect himself, the young blood elf collapsed like a boneless mana wyrm to the floor.

"Burn all to cinders and scorched bones!" Captain Sunblight whirled back to face the Lieutenant. "I gave orders to the effect, that should the slavers be unable to hold onto her, that the sin'osa Bloodsun was to be killed!" Seething, he advanced on the dark-haired elf to put himself almost in Parin's face. "If at the least, those blasted Alliance dogs should have murdered her when they found her! What, happened?!"

"As far as the report tells, Sir, the sin'osa was still alive and the Alliance forces took her with them. For what reason--?"

Snorting, Captain Sunblight turned away and scowled at the maps on the table. "Who could ever reason what humans will or won't do, Lieutenant," he snapped. "This news is most . . . inconvenient. Measures will have to be taken, in order to insure that this will not disrupt my plans." He turned back to face the Lieutenant. "Send out orders to any and all Farstrider patrols, as well as those Guardians that have been assigned to bolster our ranks. We must expand their reach, to begin reinforcing our presence in the lands beyond our borders, into the Plaguelands themselves."

"Into the Plaguelands? Sir?"

"Yes, the Plaguelands!"

Parin blanched stark-white. "But there is still a sizable presence of Scourge in those wasted lands. To send our forces in--?"

Captain Sunblight thundered, "The Scourge be HANGED! I have worked too long and hard for my plans to come to fruition, to allow that sin'osa Bloodsun to foul them up at the last moment!" He was practically preparing to draw his weapon on the hapless Lieutenant, as he said, "Send out our forces and have them watch for any Alliance scum traveling northwards across the Plaguelands. If that blasted traitor is found, I want her killed the moment she is sighted. Do you understand!?"

Lieutenant Parin nodded and saluted hastily. "Yes, Sir. I will leave to issue your orders at once!"

"Do that, and let not one patrol return to Silvermoon until Bloodsun's head is brought before me!" He nodded to the two guards -- one of which was now recovering from his vicious blow -- and snarled, "Leave me, now!"

Lieutenant Parin saluted again and turned, leaving the room with the two guards in a rush.

Scowling blackly, Captain Sunblight turned back to his table and maps, leaning over the edge to prop himself on his knuckles as he stared down at them. Sun strike me blind! he thought to himself. Those accursed slavers couldn't be trusted to do the job properly, and my own forces afield have failed me . . . just when I am so, so very close to completing the greatest coup ever planned.

He swept his gaze over the map, taking note of the position of every mark and notation -- where it recorded all of his Farstrider troops and those of the wretched Blood Knights as well. His eyes were fixed firmly on the locus of several troops, where they were placed near the picture of an Amani Troll ziggurat; at the edge of the Troll's small territory.

Just then, another Farstrider entered the room, pausing before he saluted the Captain. "Sir, a message from Lord Lor'themar Theron. He requests your presence to report the status of our forces afield."

Captain Sunblight nodded, though inwardly he sneered. "Very well, I shall be with them . . . shortly. Leave me." As the Ranger departed, The second-in-command of all of Silvermoon's rangers turned back to inspect his maps once more. If I cannot make those fools that lead us see the wisdom of truth . . . then, I shall force the issue, and make sure those blasted Blood Knights pay for it, in the dearest coin of all! Straightening, he smirked a private smile as he muttered, "Only then, will the honor of the Rangers -- and my own personal slights -- be cleansed." With that said, he whirled away from the table and departed to meet with the current ruler of Silvermoon . . . .

.

-==- To Be Continued... -==-