All the works of Men and Orcs crumble as a new darkness threatens the lands. It is not the blade and the axe. Neither is it the will of the living; it is far darker that that. Disease and corruption, with a will and a dangerous sentience, are creeping into the hearts of all the races. A Scourge is about to befall the world, and those brave few who dare to face it must stem the tide. Death awaits them, no longer bound by their own shadowed, mortal fears. Here follows the tale of Sir Tallon Kharnson of Moonharvest, hero of the Third War and Paladin of the Holy Light.

Tal meandered down the woodland path, letting his gaze roam across the road in front of him. Fading sunlight lanced through the canopy here and there, giving the forest a faint, golden glow. The air was mild and even warm, befitting the late summer of Northern Azeroth. Woodland creatures sang their various evening songs, almost as if they were serenading the weary young man who walked through their midst. Such was the way of existence in the small Duchy of Moonharvest: eternal tranquility. Though, more often than not, that translated to eternal boredom in Tal's mind. Tal sighed, closing his eyes momentarily. A sharp pain in his right shoulder told him that he had overextended himself again. Swordmaster Opal was always berating him, the phrase "Control your swing!" falling from her lips so frequently it became meaningless, droning background noise as Tal tried to rehearse his combinations. Swordplay had never been a strong point for Tal. It required too much finesse for him to appreciate its finer points. As Opal constantly reminded him, you had to use your wrist, your elbow, your shoulder, and your feet. Most of all, you had to use your brain. The trainer always managed to make Tal feel stupid, somehow. It was, irritatingly enough, an innate gift the woman seemed to possess. Give me an axe and I'd show her what for, Tal thought vehemently. Tal had, however, been trained with the sword for most of his short life. At the relatively young age of nineteen, Tal had been receiving military instruction for battle for the last ten years, but had yet to see any action. He was frustrated with his current education. So frustrated, in fact, that one of his favorite pastimes had become complaining about it whenever the subject was mentioned. This had made his home life rather uncomfortable of late, as Tal's father, a large and imposing veteran of the Azeroth Army, was insistent that the only way Tal could achieve any sort of worth in this world was through such a noble and venerable institution as the military. A gentle breeze stirred the forest as another sigh escaped Tal's lips. It had been such a long day. A sudden noise off into the trees on Tal's right awoke him from his reverie. The unmistakable sounds of something large crashing clumsily and carelessly through the trees rang in Tal's ears. Training that had become instinct took over and Tal readied himself, noting, to his dismay, that his only defense was his wooden practice sword. Tal's eyes scanned the trees, looking for the source of the continuing sounds. There, he said to himself. Movement through the brush headed this direction. Fast. What the hell is that? It almost looks. ". human?" The words came unbidden as Tal's surprise stayed his hand. "Hello? Who is that? What the hell are you doing out here?" The branches parted and a man stumbled onto the path before Tal. He fell to his knees, gasping for air as he clutched at his own arm. Blood seeped through the cracks of his fingers. He had scratches on his face, one running dangerously close to his left eye. Long, blond hair cascaded about his head, twigs and briars clinging to the tangled ends. He was obviously tall and moved gracefully, despite his wounded state. Piercingly green eyes stared, unfocused, at the forest floor ahead of them as air rasped in and out of the man's lungs. The remnants of an ornate suit of armor rested about the man, who after more inspection appeared to be very young, though Tal could not be sure. A bloody sword of graceful curves hung loosely in a scabbard at the odd man's side. The stranger grunted in pain as he glanced over at Tal, his hair shifting to reveal the pointed tips of his ears. "You're an elf!" Tal cried, attempting to draw the obvious and rude statement back into his mouth even as it spilled forth. The elf looked slightly taken aback by Tal's reaction, then his chapped lips began to move, his voice so dry that his whisper was barely audible. "Run." he muttered. "Run? Run from what?" There was no response other than a shudder. "Look, sir, you need help. Come on." Tal moved to help the elf to his feet, but the foreign creature violently shoved him away, falling over backwards in the process. "Don't slow. yourself. down with. me, human." The elf was forcing the speech from his lungs as he virtually sobbed for oxygen. His eyes glazed momentarily as his hand moved to squeeze his wound again. "Look," Tal said, trying to sound casual and confident, "I've had a long day. You're obviously in trouble. You can't stay here, and I probably shouldn't stay here. Let me help you." The elf seemed unconvinced. "If you honestly think that somebody as light as you is going to slow me down, then I'm going to have to question the legendary wisdom of the elves." The man's green eyes focused clearly on Tal for the first time, suddenly making the young man very conscious of his own appearance. Tal glanced down at himself, aware of how ridiculous he must appear. A young, beardless boy in simple peasant clothes and no shoes with a wooden practice sword in his hand created an impression that any sane person would hesitate to put confidence in. Tousled brown hair and various sweat and dirt stains from that day's training session were Tal's only other adornments. Perhaps the only reassuring quality about himself that Tal could discern was his broad, muscular build. Tal had always stood at least a head taller than everyone else his age, with a shoulder and chest befitting the son of a lumberjack. The elven man finished his perusal of the young human and extended his hand upwards. Tal saw in his eyes a desperate vote of confidence. "Agwin," he said as Tal clasped his had and helped him to his feet. "That's my name. Agwin."

"Tal. Tallon Kharnson." "Well, Tallon. I wish I had better news. for such a. newly acquired acquaintance." "What happened to you?" "I was with. a regiment. of my own people. about two miles east of here. I'm a dignitary for. my nation. to Azeroth. I was supposed to put up with. Duke Moonharvest. His manor. is near here, I believe." "Yes, this is his land. His manner is just back down the road. I can take you there if you want." "No. no. not yet. anyway. We were. ambushed by." Agwin stopped, shuddering. "Ambushed by what?" "Creatures. Monsters the likes of which. I have. never seen before." "Orcs?" Tal interrupted. "We have to get to the manor to warn the Duke!" "No! Not Orcs. Tallon. I have fought Orcs many. many times. These were. like the walking corpses. of those. who had been slain." Tal blinked in disbelief. Agwin was unaware of the youth's reaction, lost in the horror of his memory. "Beasts fell upon us. tearing us to pieces. dragging us down, consuming our flesh. and their victims. by the Sun, it was awful." "Their victims what? What happened?" "Their victims. my people. stood up. undead. and began to. attack us. I had almost banished it from. from my mind." Agwin's last words degenerated into a fit of coughing, as if his body was trying to expel the chilling recollection through his throat. "Let us still go to the Duke, then! His army has at least ten knights, and scores of infantry. With such a force any threat would be banished quickly." "You do not seem. to entirely comprehend. this threat, human. And even if. such a thing. were true, these creatures. came on us. from the. north. They plowed right through us. They are heading. south, from Northrend, not towards. the Duke's manner. There is a town that I saw. We must. warn them." "Gods, are you serious? There was a guard tower, atop a hill? That's Harvest's Hillock. That's my home!" "Then let us. move quickly, Tallon. We must." Agwin's words were cut short as a fiery bolt lanced from amongst the trees to take him in the shoulder. The hapless elf was spun around by the force of the blast before landing face down on the soggy forest floor. He did not move. "Ah, master elf. You, most certainly of all, know that you cannot truly avoid death." A dark voice echoed ominously from the trees, the evil of the owner's intentions saturating the words. Tal swallowed the growing lump of fear in his throat and turned to face this new threat, his practice blade ready. He was in no way prepared for what he saw. Clothed in dark robes and a miasma of shadow stood a hooded man with a staff in his hand. Before him stood three hunched and mutilated creatures that possessed vague traces of humanity. They had long, terrible claws and fangs. Saliva ran in rivulets down their twisted and pockmarked faces as their unnaturally large jaws gnashed together. Insane glares focused on Tal, the eye sockets that were their origins little more than sunken craters. Tattered clothes clung the misshapen bodies of the monsters, revealing in patches their twisted, leathery, and gnarled skin. The dark being gave a short laugh upon observing Tal's reaction. "I suppose you're going to try to stop us, then? This is hardly worth my time. Finish them, my children, and remember. bring the elf's heart to me!" Those final words rang through the trees as the man spun, his robe and cape swirling about him, and disappeared back into the trees. With an alarming burst of speed, the three demonic creatures rushed at Tal, fangs and claws readied. Tal could feel his body tense, and knew that the only thing between him and death was his training. The first monster leapt into the air, flying directly at Tal. Tal swung his practice blade with both hands, batting the creature aside, his wooden sword cracking in half in the process. The beast landed in a heap a few feet away. The second monstrosity closed in, swiping at Tal's face, and the boy instinctively jerked his head back, the undead thing's claws missing him by a hair. Viciously, he jammed the splintered remnant of his practice sword into the flesh of the creature's forearm as it swung past his head. The young warrior was rewarded with a howl of pain as he used the hilt as leverage, twisting and swinging the beast back in front of him just as the third monster's attacks were launched. A fury of demonic claws met Tal's improvised demonic shield, and the boy watched as his living defense was ripped to pieces by its compatriot. Yanking the hilt of his wooden blade out of the body of the now still thing, he planted his foot firmly against the corpse and shoved it forward with all his might. The wieght of the creature bore the living monster to the ground, pinning it underneath momentarily. Tal stepped forward with the intention of finishing off his trapped foe, but something hit him from behind with ungodly force, knocking him forward. His practice blade flew from his hand as he hit the ground, momentarily winded. His vision cleared, and he tried to jerk back in surprise, as the pinned monstrosity's face mere inches from his own. Tal knew he was firmly held down by whatever was on his back as his muscles strained uselessly. He managed to glance behind himself to see his first assailant sitting on his back, jaws gnashing wildly and claws poised to strike. Something glinted in the sunlight, and the beast atop Tal toppled sideways, it's head landing with a sickening thud a good distance away from the body. Agwin stood over Tal now, sword drawn. His left arm hung limply at his side. "Thanks," Tal gasped, clutching his ribs. Agwin just nodded as he helped Tal to his feet. A sudden movement out of the corner of Tal's eye alerted him that the last beast was up again. It lunged at Agwin, whose reaction would have been a second too late had Tal not caught the beast around the shoulder and neck. He heaved with all his might, somehow restraining that Undead fury within his mortal grip. Tal's muscles in his right arm strained, the pain in his shoulder flaring, but he was still rewarding with the sound of the monster's neck snapping. He let the body slide to the ground and kicked it once for good measure. "I'm impressed," said Agwin as Tal stood back, panting. "I've never. that's the first time I've. well, I've never actually fought before." There was a slightly frantic look in Tal's eye, partly from fear and partly from adrenaline. "You've a knack for it, Tallon." "I mean. I know they were just monsters. well, not just monsters, but. well, you know. I've never. uh, killed before, either. I. never mind. let's go. let's go warn... my family." "Right." "There's one thing. I don't get, though." Agwin looked at Tal in surprise, his whole face taking on a look of mild consternation, as if to ask how there could only be one thing. Tal ignored the look. "If you're just a. a dignitary, then why pursue you. all this way? And then. take your heart?" Agwin's expression became pointed, his glance suddenly somewhat dangerous. "We have a village to rescue." With that, the elf set off down the road, leaving Tal to momentarily gaze at his receding form. The young human bent and retrieved the haft of his practice blade before running to catch up. It's relatively useless now, but it will make a fitting relic for my village when we have staved this threat off! Tal thought to himself. The triumphant nature of the idea gave speed to Tal's powerful legs, and it was not long before he and Agwin ran side by side.