Hello to all my readers! First I wanna say that I am a new member and this is my first warcraft fanfic and I have not much experience in making fics. So I want you peepz to submit reviews; grading my performance and giving polite and HONEST suggestions. This story continues the warcraft storyline. Those who are not familiar with the setting should play warcraft three and frozen throne or at least read the warcraft storyline at http/ those too lazy or do not have the time, The prologue below will provide you with what happened in warcraft in the eyes of a man though many details are not explained now but will be revealed as this story goes on.I do not change the characteristics of the known characters in warcraft unless something happened to them.
Happy Reading!
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Prologue
Three miles southwest of Lordaeron
How could we fall? How could the Alliance fall? Did we not beat the trolls? Did we not subdue the orcs? Did we not beat back every single obstacle thrown upon us by fate? Yet even the mighty fall. It happened so fast but it would be better if I start from the beginning. The beginning of the end…
The news from the northern villages at the time was alarming if not terrifying…stories of creatures... dead creatures...prowling the night hunting innocent men... All who went north never returned and many pressured their leaders to quarantine the northlands. Finally an imperial edict stated that an investigation of the north would be sent.Many cheered when they heard that the beloved prince Arthas was sent with an agent of the Kirin Tor to see what is wrong. All our hopes were dashed when the prince was accused of genocide. Uther himself said that the prince went mad and in time, his words were proven all too right.
The prince, who had lead an expedition to Northrend, returned a changed man. Not noticing this,his father celebrated his return and was left alone with the aged king...After he left, royal guards found the mangled body of the aged king.Grief enveloped the wartorn land but few believed that his own son would do such a thing.Our fortunes then turned from bad to worse. The order of light's brave paladins took control of the situation and established martial law. Their leader Uther however fell to the dark prince's blade and lost the urn which held the king's remains
With no able leader left to guide them, chaos ensued and after a month all hell broke loose. Arthas decided the time was right and took control of the undead.. Me and my family barely escaped into the mountains when he decided to purge humanity from his kingdom. We arrived at Dalaran only to find the Blood Elves expelled from the alliance and sentenced to death. There I was deemed of age and I soon started learning the basics of magic. I soon learned of another tragedy. Somehow the blood elves escaped killing the old prison guards and disappeared without a trace. This event further encouraged me to delve into the arcane arts. When one thinks it cannot get any worse, it does. The last of the alliance armies swore allegiance to a dreadlord!
A year later I finished my novice studies and went on to learn the ways of the sword as all men should. I found that the way of the sword was far different from the way of the staff, one would have to practice the same strokes over and over till your arms ached. However well-muscled one is, one's first try at donning armor is no pleasant task. Your body must get used to the new load. They say it must be your second skin, a thing that one must get used to.
My sword training took three additional years of my life and now, in my free-time I still learn the mystical arts that is magic. I am amazed at how the years pass...
I am now twenty-one years of age. I am now a great fighter and a skillful magician. This I say not boastfully but truthfully. I have slaughtered none but the dead and half-dead beings of the world. I govern a small village of refugees with fair and able judgment. My name is Darathas, half-elf and half human.
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/Deep in the Alterac mountains/
Overlooking the village, two imposing figures gazed at the small bastion life in a land plagued by undead. The taller of the two was a tall fiery redhead dressed in knight's armor. The other was a dwarf, short and hairy like his fellow kinsmen up in Ironforge. The two were best friends, known to all in the small village.
"Amazing how we survived here," the man exclaimed. "These people are my life, no call-to-arms will make me forsake it."
"But Darathas, you were at Lordaeron a few months ago. Surely you must see the dire need for men to reclaim the capital."
"Two men will not change the outcome of this war. I have not heard news of the undead invading more lands."
"You did not hear? The undead factions are fighting for control. The dead fight the dead."
"Well better them fighting each other than fighting us. All the death... sad that we were born in these times," he got a nearby pebble and tossed it far away.
"If one of them gains overall supremacy, don't you think we would be next. One thing I learned, enemies always want everything. They never are satisfied with what they have. We should attack, I say."
"Always the attacker Korith but you may be right...yet it would be evenbetter for us to leave this place. Did you not hear that many survivors are in a land called Kalimdor. I hear a new city is being built there as we speak, we could rebuild our kingdom. Did you hear?We are even at peace with the orcs, the ORCS! Years ago I would never have believed such a thing to be possible."
The dwarf hearing the last part bitterly commented. "I for one do not trust those orcs," the bitter memories of lost loved ones in the third war gave him bitter prejudice against the green-skinned creatures.
"We must put aside past grudges, I doubt orcs like the undead themselves. I am no orc lover myself,you know that but I am sure they feel the same way about us."
"True it may be," the words he grudgingly spoke. "As long as the orcs do not get in our way…"
"We better get going, dinner won't catch itself." Grinning, the dwarf licked his lips. "Oooohhh... Roasted Furbolg... Lets go then."
