Westfall, once a breadbasket of Stormwind, was nothing more than decayed and yellowed hills of malnourished farmland.
The law said the land belonged to Stormwind, to the alliance, but anyone who came into the place would know who really controls this it.
The Defias. Once an associated group of masons and builders tasked with rebuilding a considerable portion of Stormwind city, they were cheated out of their rightful pay.
Their revenge was quick, and very bloody. Almost overnight the group of builders, tinkerers, and working peasants evolved into a small army of thieves and cutthroats, extorting from the land what coin and wealth they were promised.
With the already stretched thin armies of the alliance the forces sent to combat such individuals were token at best, a small smattering of guards and trained soldiers overseeing a peoples militia.
The farmers were the first to suffer, pushed out of their lands or murdered, there homes and lands now either laying untended, or belonging to the Defias.
Where once farmers tended rolling grassy fields of wheat and barley, now silent towering golems watched over the field, harvesting the grain and slaughtering any who drew too close.
Then the merchants. Each pedllar of good of any kidn found themselves accosted around every corner, and now any who travled Westfall had to pay the Defias toll, in coin, or in blood.
The whole of the alliance knew that now the Defias ruled Westfall.
Renault was enjoying his new life as a bandit. He had just joined in three months ago, and it was the best decision he had ever made.
Not everyone in the Defias was an original member. Lately they had been taking on the desperate, the impoverished, and the greedy.
He was all of the above.
He had never been happier. Sure the work was bloody, and many had their trepidation's about harming those who traveled the roads in search of making their wealth, but it paid well.
Before he had been nothing but a farm boy, and now he was spending his days making more coin than he had ever seen, and his nights with a woman between his sheets.
After all, if your husband cant see you fed, why not find someone else?
There were many wives, daughters and sisters to dead farmers in the Dead mines beneath the town of Moonbrook, each more than willing to attach themselves to the only men who could keep them safe and fed in Westfall.
He had been patrolling through the small farming village, waiting for his friend to finish his piss when something in the air changed. The smell of rot hit his nose.
Not altogether worrying, there were plenty of bodies that needed to be disposed of, it was possibly some had been missed.
What was worrying was the silence. The night, once filled with the chirping of insects, had gone quiet.
"Gardel, you hear anything?" Gardel was a drunk and a slob, but he was a good sword to have at your side.
They had raided a few caravans together, and they worked well in each others presence. The leadership often saw to it they were posted together.
He had been drinking too much, and like the nervous bitch he was he demanded Renault let him have some privacy.
"Its gotten a bit quiet." Gardel called back from over his shoulder.
"You think we should tell the boss?"
Renault scoffed. "Tell im what, that it got a bit quiet and its giving us a bit of the willies?"
"We'll be fine, just finish up back there."
Gardel laughed back "Alright, alright, light be damned your su-"
A wet snap echoed across the night. Renault turned to the stable Gardel had been using as a privy.
An elf covered in bandages was cradling Gardel's head in his hands. Renualt opened his mouth to yell out, before the skull flew across the space between them, breaking his nose.
Renault grabbed at his face, feeling the blood poor down his face.
He looked back up, his hand on the haft of his sword, only for the elves hands to wrap around his throat.
He managed to get a look at one glowing blue eye, before blackened smoke poured from the creatures mouth, and into his own.
Renault stumbled back, his mind smothered by that of a specter.
"You need a bath, badly."
The body of Renault took a few awkward steps forward, before hopping in place.
When it stepped forward again it was with almost unnatural grace and fluidity.
Renault sauntered towards the largest building in the village, passing by several bandits near the entrance to their hideout.
He grinned to his fellows as he walked past them, into the depths of the Dead-mines. A massive mining network that had once been the source of a third of the gold in the kingdom of Stormwind.
It had long since been all but consumed and abandoned, and it was now a underground fortress under the control of the most dangerous rebels in human territory.
Renault made to walk past the first line of sentries, guarding the entrance to their home, before one of the men stepped in front of him.
"Renault, right? The fuck happened to your nose?"
His head tilted for a moment, before Renault laughed. "It's nothing, Gardel got one of his knives stuck in the side of a house, and when he tried to pull it out he bashed me in the nose."
His hand gingerly touched the bloody mess. "Fucker broke it, I'm heading back to the ship to see if I can get a potion, or at least some cloth."
The sentry shook his head. "Potions are expensive man, they ll take it out of your share if you grab one."
Renault's shoulders dropped, before he smiled. "Well I guess I might not then. Besides, it adds character, right?"
"Suppose it does!" The sentry said with a laugh and a pat on the back, letting the man pass.
"Better be quick, one of the captains'll tell the boss if you've been slacking."
Renault looked back at the sentry, a smirk growing on his face.
"I'm sure he wont mind, If I bring him a drink."