Valgarde

Howling Fjord

"And then we go home," the paladin finished with a genuine smile.

The Vice-Admiral stared in bewilderment. Every word that came out of Rayne's mouth must have had a lasting impression because he remained speechless for what felt like an eternity. The silence amongst the Templar Knights continued to grow casting an eerie aura over the group. Sweat began to pool on Keller's brow as the powder keg of awkwardness was nearly ready to explode.

"I like it," Marcus grinned.

"Ditto," Weasel smiled. "This should be fun."

Cayden nodded his head.

"It's a bold plan but the strategy is solid. Given our current fighting capabilities, manpower, and overall team effectiveness I calculate a ninety-one percent chance of success. Give or take a few unknown variables."

The Vice-Admiral slammed his fists on the table.

"You're all nuts!" He snapped while locking eyes on the paladin. "This is suicide. How in the hell can you stand there and smile knowing full well what you're up against?"

A burst of shock filled the paladin' expression as he was suddenly grabbed by the elder officer and pulled aside.

"Listen kid," he began toning down the level of disdain that was radiating off his tone earlier. "I know you want to put on a brave face for your men back there but this is insane. What you're planning, what you're trying to do is unfathomable. In all of my years servicing the Alliance military I would never, ever put the lives of my men at risk in such a way. In fact, the most merciful thing to do in this situation is line them all up and slit their throats yourself. It would save them and you a lot of trouble and heartbreak."

"Thank you for your concern Vice-Admiral," the paladin waved. "But I am confident in both my strategy and the skill of my companions. They are more than capable to handle this task."

"I'm no stranger to that either Templar," Keller shot back. "You don't think we've heard about your reputation all the way out here? I didn't want to say this in front of everyone but you guys are a joke. Not only do we know it but I'm sure the King in there knows it too. Thoralius has been catching shadows inside of our walls over the last few days. I'm sure they've been spying on us and know full well you're coming. That's probably why we haven't seen them increasing their defenses in preparation for the attack. Hell, the only thing that hasn't surprised us is the fact that none of them have died yet due to their lack of talent or your incompetence. Knowing that, I cannot in good faith let you go out there on a glorified suicide mission."

Rayne placed his hand on the Vice-Admirals shoulder. He took a deep breath and channeled the soothing calmness of the light within his body.

"I'm very well of our reputation as well Vice-Admiral Keller. I see the looks and hear the snickers wherever I go. These people didn't just put their faith in me to lead them. They're not mercenaries or employees."

The paladin enjoyed another deep breath as he finished.

"They are my friends and the last thing I would want to do is put them in any real danger. We all have a past and something to prove. This is our time; our moment to succeed. All I'm asking is that you put the same faith in me that they have shown throughout constant failure and embarrassment. I know this is the right path. Please, allow me to prove it to you."

The Vice-Admiral did not look convinced. He groaned while forcing the paladin's hand off his shoulder.

"Do what you want kid. Just remember what I said. I just hope you'll live to regret it."

"Thank you Vice-Admiral," Rayne smiled once again. The overly enthusiastic expression must have set off Keller's buttons because he took off fuming back towards the docks. This wasn't going to be easy but the paladin was determined to change his mind. He really didn't have any other choice. The Templar Knights may very well have their last hurrah inside of that dreaded keep. There was no plan B and nowhere to run to after this. They had to succeed. Rayne was determined to see that happen.

"Sir!" Lena saluted upon her approach.

The paladin reciprocated in kind. Two companies of soldiers marched behind her. They were well armored from head to two in shimmering silver plate with ornate red trimming around the edges. Each wielded the finely crafted arms bearing the Templar mark. A sword and shield was the most popular choice but the soldiers were free to choose the weapons they were most comfortable with. Some preferred the might of a claymore while others preferred to forgo the extra defense and put a second sword in their free hand.

"Are they ready to go?"

"Yes sir!" Lene replied. "First and second companies awaiting your orders."

"Good," Rayne nodded.

The formality between them was sometimes too awkward but given the stakes at hand, also very necessary.

"Please move the soldiers to the front of the keep. On my mark, charge in formation D13 and remain in that battle order until you see the signal."

"Formation D13?!"

Lena's genuine look of surprise was overshadowed only by her derisive tone.

"Are you serious? We can –"

"This is important Lena," Rayne interrupted and finished with a bright smile. "Trust me."

The Captain looked away from him for a moment. It was bad for protocol especially in front of the men but Rayne knew that expression all too well. No matter how many layers of armor she wore or degrees of separation but between them by the military code, she would always care for him like a brother first and foremost.

"Roger that sir," she begrudgingly replied.

Lena turned band began barking the orders at the soldiers. They gave a unanimous reply and began their march towards the front gates.

"Raymond," a delicate voice called from behind.

The paladin felt his heart jump for a moment but quickly turned towards Narula's beautiful visage.

"Weasel has begun scouting ahead. Everyone else is ready."

"Thank you," said the paladin. As much as he'd love to stand here and continue staring into her bright silver eyes, they had a job to do. "Let's get in position."

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Narula's words caught the paladin off guard. He expected a level of apprehension from Keller and even his soldiers but never did he expect the one he cared for most in this crazy world of theirs to slam the weight of reality on his shoulders.

"We really don't have much of a choice unfortunately," Rayne laughed.

It was painfully obvious he was trying to hide his own doubts with humor but the night elf still looked at him with warmth and hope above all else. No matter how bad things may seem Narula always seemed to instill confidence in the young paladin.

"This may be the very last time the Templar Knights ride into battle." His eyes darted away for a moment before locking back onto hers. "If things should go south in there, promise me that you'll –"

"Please," the night elf interrupted. "Do not speak like that Raymond. It is unbecoming of you. I cannot imagine a world without you in it nor would I ever entertain such a sad thought."

The sullen expression of remorse washed away as her lips curved to form the familiar smile Rayne loved so much.

"No matter what happens inside, I have faith in you."

She touched the paladin's shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze while looking upon him with stern eyes beneath the warm silver glow.

"And I will protect you."

Faith was a funny thing. Those who have it are empowered to give it to others and those you need it always seem to find someone willing to share it. That was just another thing he adored about her. She always knew exactly what to say to make him feel better.

"Thank you, Narula."

The night elf smiled brightly.

"My pleasure, Raymond."

"Alright," the paladin grinned returning to his usual upbeat demeanor. "Ready to get our feet wet? I hope you brought a towel"

"Yes," Narula nodded before a puzzling expression slowly took hold. "A towel? Where are we going?"

Rayne's teeth slowly shined through his wide grin.

"Swimming."


Magus Commerce Exchange

Dalaran

The young elf's patience was ready to burst. She stood by and listened to the diatribe those mongrels would dare call a conversation for the better part of half an hour before finally fleeing the scene. An opportunity like this may not present itself again. She had to seize this moment now before another distraction leered its ugly head in.

"Cakes, brownies, donuts," called the black-haired elf to the crowd.

She had quickly shifted gears to fulfilling her regular duties as a saleswoman as if the last few agonizing minutes had not even existed.

Lorelei skipped into the crowd and melded with the moving bodies as if she had been a part of their march since it began. They traveled quickly and before she knew it, the baker was dead in her sights. The two elves locked eyes as Lorelei stepped out of the main passage towards the smiling vendor.

"Greetings," she smiled. "How can I help you?"

"I – uh..."

The young elf's heart raced and affected even the most basic of functions from working properly. Though she planned on attacking this head on like the minions of the scourge that fell to her bow just days prior but was not prepared for this undertaking.

"We have the best pastries in the city. They are freshly baked every morning. What kind would you like today?"

This woman was ridiculously kind. It made sense that Rayne would be drawn to her. They are very similar in that regard. Lorelei couldn't let that interfere with her mission. In order to get what she was truly after, the young elf had to play ball.

"What would you recommend for a first time visitor?" Smiled Lorelei.

"Oh, this is your first time visiting Dalaran?" The high elf smiled back. "Welcome! My name is Aimee. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Thanks Aimee," the young elf smirked. "I'm Lorelei."

"Have you been enjoying your stay here?"

"Sort of," Lorelei coyly replied. "I haven't really explored anywhere yet."

"Well, there's lots of things to see and do around here," Aimee stated. "I suggest making a stop at the Dalaran Visitor's Center. They have lots of information and recommendations to assist you with your stay here."

"Actually," the young elf interjected. "I wanted to talk to you specifically."

"Me?"

Aimee's innocence shined forth through her befuddled expression.

"How may I be of service?"

She had the high elf right where she wanted her. Stating her purpose outright would be suicide and given her recent changes in pulse speed and fluctuating facial temperature, Lorelei wasn't sure if she could even go down that route anyways. The key was to be both subtle and inquisitive. She had to look like she didn't want any specific information, otherwise, it would be painfully obvious what she was truly after. The last thing the young elf wanted to do was look like the pair of snickering morons who stood here minutes prior.

"I was hope you could help me find someone. He's about this tall," Lorelei raised her flat hand about half a foot above her head, "has blonde hair, silver armor with gold trim, and a pair of goggles that usually sit on his forehead."

Aimee's face immediately turned red given that vague description. The young elf had hit pay dirt.

"You wouldn't happen to mean," the high elf was visibly flustered and tried to regain some semblance of composure. "Are you speaking of Rayne?"

"That's right!" Lorelei cheered. "I haven't seen him in a few days and I heard he visits here often. I was hoping someone might know where I can find him."

"It's true," began Aimee. "I saw Rayne a few days ago as well. He was in a rush. Oh wait," her tone went from fluttering to completely rattled. "Would you happen to be…? I mean, are you –"

"Am I who?"

Lorelei focused her gaze into Aimee's glowing blue eyes.

"Oh. So you're not," the high elf thankfully sighed.

Her relief brought nothing but to the young elf. There were still plenty of questions left to ask.

"Who are you talking about?" Questioned Lorelei.

"It's nothing," Aimee exhaled with a touch of defeat in her breath. "But to answer your question, he was only here briefly to pick up a few things. There might be some others who know more."

"Really?" The young elf's expression perked up. "Like who?"

"Hmm," the high elf pondered for a moment. "There's Betha at the Visitor's Center. Susan at Glorious Goods. Tiffany at Cartier."

Aimee continued to list of names. The young elf's brow tightened with every passing second. It was oddly suspect that every person Rayne knew in this city just happened to be female. The once prestigious image he held of him was slowly starting to tarnish. However, the ongoing ache in her heart took precedence over all other emotions.

"Although," Aimee paused. "Perhaps Fialla would be your best bet. We talked the other day and she mentioned seeing him."

"Where can I find her?"

The excitement in Lorelei's voice must have been abundant because it nearly pushed back the black-haired elf into her own cart.

"She works at One More Glass. Just follow this road and make a right and the end. You can't miss it or her for that matter. She's usually out front greeting customers."

"Thank you Aimee," the young elf replied. The next step in her journey had already been set.

"Oh wait," the high elf called just stopping Lorelei before getting lost in the crown.

She reached into her cart and placed two decadent pastries inside of a small paper bag and handed them to the young elf.

"Please take these with my compliments. I hope you enjoy them."

"But I," the young elf briefly debated on how to respond in this unique situation. Such kindness is not unbeknownst to her but it usually came from fear and not genuine consideration. "Thank you again Aimee. I appreciate all of your help."

"Think nothing of it," Aimee replied. "Any friend of Rayne's is a friend of mine."

Friend? The young elf thought. She didn't like the way that sounded and yet hearing his name being called so lovingly reminded her of his caring nature. If he was able to touch Lorelei's heart in a short amount of time there's no wonder why he has an assortment of fans and friendly people wherever he went.

Lorelei dove into the crowd and followed them east along the main path. The young elf contemplated stuffing the bag full of pastries into a nearby refuse bin. Something about that conversation left a sour taste in her mouth that no amount of sugar could overcome.


Utgarde Pinnacle

Howling Fjord

"Man this armor sucks," the gnome spat.

The tightening folds of his black leather outfit began squeaking with a heightened ferocity.

"I spent no more than a minute in that freezing cesspool and I still can't get dry."

Weasel continued to shake his body flinging droplets of water in all directions. No matter how hard he tried there was no way he would rid himself of these soaking stains.

"You're like a bad dog, you know that?" Marcus taunted.

The warrior threw his hands up to protect the rest of his body from being subjected to the second-hand water stains.

"You better not hope I catch a cold Rayne," Weasel sniffed. "I will haunt you to the end of your days."

Marcus drilled his fist into the top of the gnome's skull. He let out a muffled grunt as his tiny teeth slammed together.

"It'll take a lot more than a couple of sneezes to kill you Weasel," grunted Marcus. "Now shut up and let's get moving."

"Easy for you to say," Weasel ranted. "Water just bounces off metal. You and Rayne have nothing to worry about. Narula's one with nature so she just absorbs it like a frick'n houseplant. And don't get me started on Flame-Brain here."

"Hey!" Cayden snapped. "I offered to help you dry off you ungrateful –"

"If you think I'm going to let your flames near my perfectly svelte figure than you're a few shards short of an enchantment."

"You half-witted little –!"

"Calm down Cayden," pleaded the paladin. "Save your energy and enthusiasm for once we get inside. There's plenty to fight in there. We can't be drawing our blades against each other."

"Raymond is right," added Narula.

She knelt down and tapped the gnome gently on the head. His body began to glow with a faint white light. Soon the tightness of his squeaking leather armor faded as the water slowly evaporated.

"All better?" She smiled while standing.

"Much," the cheeky gnome grinned. "Now I can see why the boss is always swooning."

The paladin pinched the bridge of his nose hoping to stop his mind from racing away with thoughts outside the task at hand. They marched across the field towards a set of wooden stairs. The massive keep rose hundreds of feet into the chilled sky. Sculptures depicting vrykul imagery served as both a territorial marking and warning for those who dared to trespass on their lands.

Security in this area was lax. Weasel had done a fantastic job scouting as per usual. The battle waged on with Captain Sherwood and her companies on the southern end of the keep while Rayne and his crew snuck around through the river on the east side. Even though they were separated by this giant vrykul infested castle, they could still hear the fury of combat from afar. The Templar soldiers were giving it there all over there. Now it was time for the paladin to earn his keep.

"Say boss," Weasel began in an inquisitive tone. "Are we finally going to be able to –"

"Not until I give the signal," ordered Rayne.

"Dammit," the gnome sighed while giving a pile of fallen stones a good kick.

The Templar Knights reached the top of the stairs. Fine crafted wooden poles depicting dragons held illuminated lanterns hanging from their vicious jaws. Three paths stood before them. Sealed doors blocked their entrance from the left and right. In the center, two sconces hung above an opening with a set of stairs leading up. Exceptionally carved tribal imagery overshadowed the opening and led along a slim path towards the top of the keep where a large flame bellowed.

"So this is the place?" Marcus sneered.

He swung the large mace upwards and rested it gently across his muscular shoulders.

"Do you want to knock on the door or shall I?"

"Hey, I didn't freeze my sack off back there scouting this place so you could run inside guns-a-blazing and announce to everyone that we're here!" Weasel implored.

"It was just a joke," the warrior scoffed.

"Let's just go inside quietly. Everyone, stay behind me," commanded the paladin.

They proceeded up the massive set of stairs. The ancient stone masonry filled their lungs with the scent of deterioration and decay. Cayden surveyed every fiber of this building with immense interest and wonder.

"There must me thousands of years of history within these walls. There is a lot of finesse in the construction and design. A lot of hard work went into making this place an iconic piece of architecture. Such a pity the vrykul had to taint it with their blasphemy," the mage stated.

"Take it from me kid," Marcus interjected. "People have been fighting for thousands of years. And they'll keep fighting as long as there something to fight about. Places like this are lucky they're still standing. There are a lot more just like it buried under the dirt that no one will ever get to gawk at again. That's the price you pay for inviting war into your land."

Marcus' occasional nuggets of wisdom never ceased to impress the paladin. He was the first to reach the top of the stairs. The smell of death permeated the glimmering room. Heaping mounds of gold, gems, and other valuable trinkets sat in several mounds along the marble path. Countless lives were lost plundering this massive pile of treasure. The entire wealth of King Ymiron and his vrykul clan laid right before their very eyes which instantly filled Rayne's mind with an overwhelming sense of dread.

"GOLD?!"

The gnome cried in bliss as he reached the pinnacle of the massive stone summit. He leapt into the air with a wide grin towards the closest mass of piled coins in sight. The flight was quickly canceled as he hung graciously just a few short feet away with his armor feeling tighter and tighter every second.

"You have got to be kidding me?" Marcus grieved while keeping a tight grip on the flailing gnome.

"Let me down!" Weasel begged crying for his release several times over.

"Do you think they'll just let us walk in there, take their treasure, and leave without any resistance?" The mage posed. "It doesn't make sense."

"Leave me alone! This is all I ever wanted." Pleaded Weasel. "Just give me this and I'll never ask you for a single thing again. I don't want to take it. I just want to taste it."

"Fine!" The warrior snapped. He released the gnome as requested and flung him in the direction of the gold.

The gnome dove headfirst and dug into the heaping pile of shining coins. They splashed from the sight and jingled on the ground with a delightful bounce. He continued to dance within itself as the ancient gold bathed over the tight fibers of his armor. A few pieces managed to unintentionally slip between the cracks. At least, that's what he would probably say in his defense.

"Weasel watch out!" Shouted Marcus.

"Huh?"

The gnome turned his gaze behind him. A chilling blue aura enveloped his vision. The skeleton guardian's glowing red eyes pierced through his soul as it roared and prepared to strike. Weasel cried into the open halls as fear wrapped over his body.

"I don't want to die –"

An explosion of light blinded the gnome. Shattered bones cascaded into the air. Some fizzled into a seared pile of ash while others clanked on the ground before dissolving into lifeless cinders. The gnome turned around and saw the extended palm of his glorious guild master still radiating the sweet and powerful energy of the light within its mighty grip.

"Did you get that out of your system?"

The gnome fervently nodded.

"Good," the paladin replied while lowering his arm.

The light slowly faded from his hands as he took a deep breath.

"We don't have time to dolt. Let's keep moving."

The group walked along the marble path. Weasel gave each mound a treasure a silent goodbye as they walked past. A single tear was at the cusp of falling off his cheek when suddenly Rayne stopped in his path and knelt down.

"Do you hear that?" The paladin asked.

Everyone followed their leader's movements and listened. There was a ravenous sound nearby. Flesh slapped lifelessly amongst itself as the constant drone of death lingered in. Rayne peered his gaze forward down the short set of stairs where a massive abomination stood guarding a colossal iron door. Just in front of him, a group of vrykul laughed and talked amongst themselves. They stood near an open entrance to the east. The icy touch of the outdoors flowed from that area.

"Should we take the abom boss?" Weasel pondered.

Rayne shook his head.

"Even if we tried, we have those vrykul down there to deal with. I'd like to go through here with as little conflict as possible. Besides, even if we got past him, there is no way of knowing that door is even open."

In order to get through here quickly they had to limit every encounter whenever possible. There was no telling how things were going outside with Lena and the men. The sooner they got through here with the sword in tow, the better. A plan quickly formed in the paladin's mind.

"Weasel, sneak down there and distract them. Disable them if you have to. We'll move through the mounds of gold and slip down into the open door."

"I like it," the gnome replied. "Except the part where you have me taking all the risk."

"You know I wouldn't ask unless I knew you could handle it," smiled Rayne.

"Ah shucks, you know just what to say to make a guy blush."

The gnome lowered the goggles over his eyes. Color faded out of his armor and began to meld and mesh with the surroundings. He quickly jumped down to the lower level and tucked himself perfectly behind the beefy leg of the dragonflayer warrior. Their obnoxious breathing was louder than Weasel's own steps. From within his belt the gnome procured a small metal bead. A tiny wick jutted out of its tight husk to which he gave a gentle twist. It quickly sparked and Weasel hurled the miniscule object towards left hand wall.

"Now!" Rayne ordered in a whisper.

The rest of them proceeded through the golden hills and began their quick descent towards the door. A loud pop echoed through the room. The vrykuls roared and turned their gaze toward the sight of the distraction. Even the abomination's eyes panned towards the newly created disturbance. They continued to flail away at the empty air searching for an unknown enemy which gave the gnome plenty of time to follow them through the archway.

"Piece of cake!" Weasel announced while running past a few of his slower companions. "Not too shabby for a low-life, huh boss?"

"Well done Weasel," smiled the paladin as they reached the outside entrance. "I knew I could count on –"

His words came to a slow stop and floated harmlessly into the frozen air. Several small encampments were laid about this long pathway. Chunks of snow piled into the cracks and corners where the sun never dared to shine. Ice drizzled from the edges of the open roof forming thick and sharp crystals. Along the path stood over a dozen vrykul warriors, seers, and even an outstanding abomination. The paladin's heart dropped as soon as they all turned their eyes towards the group of invaders. They gathered their weapons while sounding their ferocious battle cry. Thunderous steps approached as the vrykul defense charged towards the Templar Knights.

"So much for that strategy," Rayne announced while drawing his mace and shield. "Narula! Cayden! Slow them down."

The night elf nodded. She planted her feet and threw both hands into the air. Little flecks of electricity bounced between her fingers. Her eyes glowed with a vicious white light as storm clouds formed down the entire path and began raining down violent thrusts of wind and water.

A ball of blue arcane mist formed in Cayden's hands. He shaped it into a large icy ball and with a quick flick of his wrist hurled it down the path. It exploded and the ensuing mist began to cake over the stone walkway. A thick layer of ice quickly formed in its wake. Rain soaked the exterior which was quickly flooded by the stomping of vrykul boots. The brutish warriors lost their traction and immediately began to slip against the slick surface. Their muscular hides cracked against the magically created path and raced down towards the paladin and his companions.

"Slow them down?" Weasel cried. "They're coming in faster!"

"Which is just how I like it!" Grinned the warrior.

Marcus swung his hefty mace backwards and launched it into the oncoming skull of the first arriving vrykul. His jaw turned to dust against the mighty blow of the expertly crafted weapon made with the finest titansteel. A trail of blood arced in the wake of the swing and painted the walls with crimson fluids.

"Hit'em hard when they're already down and we won't have to worry about standing toe to toe with them," Rayne ordered while slamming his hammer into a vrykul gut.

The dragonflayer gasped clutching for any molecules of air his lungs could drink before passing out against the pinpoint precision of the heavy blow.

"You're a poet, you know that boss?" Weasel chimed while crossing his twin daggers into a vrykul throat.

They dug in far reaching the hilts of the blades. The gnome swiped them viciously across sending the detached head skidding into a pile of snow.

The trio continued to pounce on their rapidly approaching foes. Steel met flesh in a brutal dance of death. Pools of crimson fluids began to pool and freeze along the cracks of the stone pathway. Rayne ensured every strike was met with both finesse and strength. Despite their loyalties, the vrykul were still living beings. The paladin's hammer was meant to smite the wicked. These souls, albeit angered and confused, could still be redeemed. He trained for years on how to disable opponents without having to take their lives. It was a skill not many cared to have but proved to be invaluable for keeping Rayne's conscious clean.

Heavy breaths exited their exhausted frames. Though the battle barely lasted a minute, it was much more of a challenge to quickly finish off a fallen opponent racing towards you than try to combat a slower standing one.

All of the vrykuls were either dead or incapacitated. They rested in a heaping pile of flesh near the start of the path. The only thing left to deal with now were the abominations, however, it appears a critical design flaw in the undead horrors has given them a critical advantage. The giant monstrosities also fell victim to the slippery path and were lying face up against the bright sun. Their beefy arms should have been more than adequate to lift them back to their feet but it appears their primary command of attack without mercy took precedent. Without releasing the cleavers, axes, and other deadly implements locked in their grip, they could not maintain the balance necessary to push themselves up. Each mutated creature rolled from side to side trapped in the alcove where they rested with neither the space nor intelligence to escape this unfortunate fate.

"Should we finish off those fat uglies?" Marcus asked.

"No," Rayne quickly replied while shaking his head. "They are no threat to us now. We need to keep moving. Cayden…"

"Two steps ahead of you boss," the mage replied while channeling a bright ball of flame between his extended hands.

With a gentle toss it washed over the frozen path and bathed it in a sea of arcane fire. The ice evaporated nearly instantaneously and created a clean area for them to pass.

"Alright," Rayne declared. "Let's go."