The Chronicles of Dalrus

by Tgreat1

Dalrus Plaguefang was the second son of a noble house within Gilneas. His tale takes place immediately after the Second War against the orcs, and showcases his adventures as he trains to become a rogue, master of the shadows and proficient in the fine arts of subtlety, while facing against the Undead Scourge and the Burning Legion.

7. Light and Shadow

Chapter 6 - Light and Shadow

Just as promised, the smell was the first thing that hit him. It made not just Dalrus, but several men, older and more experienced than him, cough and cover their noses, and there were even a couple hurling over the edge of the wall.

Dalrus had seen rotting corpses before. A rat who lost a particularly vicious fight laying by a sewer entrance, newborn birds who fell down from their nests, and drawings of humans in biology books. But never had he seen a real dead body before outside of a funeral - and even those looked like healthy people who were in deep, deep slumber. As he saw the horde approach, he was suddenly reminded of the descriptions he had heard before... Both from his brother, and that lone Lordaeron rider so long ago.

The undead horde looked more like a sea. Coming from both the north and the east, a living, moving sea, consisted of hundreds - thousands - of reanimated dead bodies moving and scrambling about. From where Dalrus was, they were little more than a thick mass of bodies he could not make many details out of, but there were a few things he could discern; the ominous meat wagons - siege weapons designed to carry and hurl corpses like projectiles - and flying creatures he had come to know as 'Gargoyles', winged monstrosities resembling bats with the ability to turn into stone. Not only that, but he could see hulking abominations, creatures made of several dead bodies stitched together, their stomachs hanging open with their ribs exposed to the air and acidic bile oozing out every now and then.

To the west was the imposing figure of Shadowfang Keep, which was defended by Baron Silverlaine and his men. The keep had held rather well before the incoming onslaught, as the undead were clearly avoiding the place. Dalrus had heard that, as a vital strategic spot, the archmage Arugal himself, along with the surviving mages from Dalaran who had come with him were stated there. He could see there was a strange purple aura surrounding the place, and the undead seemed reluctant to come near it. In between the keep and the city was Pyrewood village, which had already been evacuated, as had Ambermill to the northeast.

There were just... So many of them. Some of them were little more than skeletons, with a few stray patches of armor hanging from their shambling limbs, some wielding weapons, others armed with nothing but their bony, sharp fingers. And then there were the ghouls, creatures who one day may have been human, elf, dwarf or even orc... But now they looked like the stuff of nightmares. Pieces of their flesh were clearly missing, exposing rotting, putrid muscle and sinew to the air. The vast majority didn't even have noses, and a very unsettling thing about them was the fact they never blinked. Their yellow glowing eyes were all turned to the city, all hungry, all desperate to feed, to kill, to spread their contagion. And yet not even that was as bad as the cloud of stench hanging over them like a mist.

"So here they come." King Genn Greymane - who was then on the tower to the right of the gates, just below Dalrus - grunted, apparently doing his best to try and ignore the smell of carrion and rot. "ARCHERS! AT READY! SHOWER THEM DOWN AS SOON AS THEY COME WITHIN RANGE!" He screamed, and soon his lieutenants were carrying the orders over. Dalrus himself was hiding in one of the watchtowers along the wall, as Silvius had instructed him to. He could still remember earlier that day when the older rogue had pulled him to the side to hush in private.

"Listen up, boy. I know your empty head and young stupidity will make you want to take a close look at this fight. I can only hope the smell alone will be enough to dissuade you, but if that is not enough, I doubt there are many people in this kingdom besides me who could truly stop you. So instead, I'm gonna try to give you something to settle for, and hopefully that will be enough. See, there's this spot on one of the watchtowers..."

Both Silvius and his father were on the ground level, along with Felrus. Dalrus had been told to stay still for the first day, as that would be the worst of them. The undead would most likely launch a full frontal assault, and should that fail, only then they would resort to more subtle tactics. As things were, Dalrus was to stay back for the time being. And so there he was, watching the whole thing unravel from a vantage point at the front row.

Not many people reacted to Felrus' appearance. They were too busy worrying for their own survival to take a second look at someone they had heard was around but hadn't seen in well over a full year. Kalthuz had simply declared his son would join them on the front line and no one had the strength or the will to object. Dalrus could see their company from where he was, among the support pillars around the ceiling of the watchtower, just as well as he could see the unease of the sentries below him. The men were squeezing their spears nervously, and more than one was sharing a bag full of wine with his mate. Many had already cocked their crossbows and polished their guns as well. The tension was even affecting the boy, who almost canceled his stealth.

Ever since their little adventure on Greymane's tower, Dalrus, along with Silvius, had been practicing his stealth every day. Silvius had told Dalrus that he had to become used to the sensation to the point where he would be able to keep it up at all times, granted nothing too extreme that would break his concentration occurred. At first Dalrus thought it would be an easy task, but then Silvius had told him Dalrus had barely covered himself in a thin layer of the shadows, which only made him 'more difficult to see'. Anyone who had a good pair of eyes and weren't stuck guarding the manor of a king in an isolated town that had no bandit raids would be able to see right through him. And so had begun his training to reach true stealth, which is to say... Absolute invisibility.

At first Dalrus had been skeptical such a thing was even possible, until Silvius had quite simply, and literally, vanished in front of his eyes. He then heard his master speaking from the exact same spot he had been moments earlier. Surely enough, when Dalrus reached out, he could feel his master's cloak. Only it was completely invisible to him, no matter what angle the boy looked from. Only then he realized how far he still had to go.

Tugging into the shadows until he had vanished completely proved to be far harder than he could even imagine. If he used too little, his body would become merely transparent, but if he pulled too much, the void would threaten to consume his body and mind. It took him a full day to finally find out what the exact measure was, and then there was the issue of keeping it up. At first Dalrus could only hold his stealth for the blink of an eye, but as time went on and his master slapped him across the head, he slowly but surely made progress. By the end of the month, he was able to spend almost an entire hour unseeable to all who did not know how to look for him. During that same time, Silvius had begun to teach him how to harness the power of the Void to augment his weapons and fighting skills.

"See, boy, that's not something you can just do out of nowhere." Silvius had explained. "The Shadowstrike is a very advanced technique. You cover your weapon with the power of the Void, then strike at your foe in the blink of an eye."

"Wait, I thought I was using the power of the Shadow?" The boy had stupidly asked, which earned him another slap from his uncle.

"It's the same bloody thing. I told you this before. The Void, the Shadow, the Darkness, whatever you call it, you're pulling your strength from this dark place that makes you stronger and wants to eat you and everyone you love alive. Now bloody focus on the lesson!"

Pulling that one particular trick off was proving much harder than Dalrus had anticipated. Silvius had told him that he was supposed to tug on the thickest, strongest tendrils of the Void to envelop his weapon and slash as quickly as he could. But simply summoning all that from thin air was a herculean task for him. There were brief moments where the purple tendrils appeared to be covering his body, but before he could focus it on his arm it was quickly gone and he was hunched over on the floor trembling uncontrollably. He then understood what Silvius had meant when he said there was no way he could learn to use the Shadows to drive people insane or throw shadow bolts. He couldn't even do something as simple as covering his weapon in shadow energy, much less focus it all in a sphere and throw it at someone. It would, at the very least, be something he would need months of intense study to even learn how to do, and even more so to pull off. He could never be a proper rogue with a fit body while doing something like that.

After his fourth failure, Silvius sighed and squatted down by his nephew. "I feared something like this could happen... What are you so scared of, boy?"

Dalrus, who was by then on all fours on the floor with cold sweat trickling down his brow, looked up at his master. "Maybe of the infinite darkness whispering inside my head that it will swallow my still beating heart?"

Silvius chuckled. "Boy, do you even understand what the Void is?" Dalrus simply launched him a puzzled look as he remained shaking there. Silvius sighed once more. "If you didn't spend so much bloody time loitering and skipping classes, you would have a better understanding of what it is you're dealing with. Do you even remember your teacher's name?"

"Which... One..." He practically moaned, then managed to sit up and grab at his arms own to try and stop his shaking.

Silvius clicked his tongue. "Stupid boy. Fine, it looks like I'm gonna need to be more drastic about your teachings." The rogue then grabbed Dalrus by the hair and forced the boy to look up at his uncle's evilly smirking face. "I'm giving you an ultimatum, boy. The king has a task for me. Apparently, there's an undead force coming this way. I'm going to be in and out of town and therefore won't be able to beat sense into you as much as I'd like. So while I'm out, I'll be having someone else look over this particular aspect of your training. And I want to make one thing clear to you..." Slowly, Silvius closed the distance between their faces until their noses were practically touching. "She is not even half as lenient about a lazy boy as I am. So I recommend you don't even think about pulling any tricks around her. And if you don't understand what in the world I've been trying to teach you by the time I'm back... I'm done wasting my time with someone who is not taking this seriously enough." And just like that, Silvius had let go of him, stood up straight and began whistling as he walked off of the court.

Few things in this world could make Dalrus truly take someone's threats seriously, but Silvius had spent many years earning his reputation for making them reality, even behind Dalrus' father's back. Poisoning was his number one favorite punishment, as there were many ways to leave marks on Dalrus that weren't visible. Sometimes he would drug Dalrus and laugh as the boy struggled to perform his training. Others, he would cover a wall in dagger blades and order him to climb it without getting cut. He could even remember this one time where Silvius had cut Dalrus with a special concoction that had dogs chasing him wherever he went for two whole days. The boy never truly resented his uncle or thought of telling someone he was being poisoned, beaten, pushed over the edge and chased by wild animals, though; in the end, every single one of those experiences had made him stronger. Before long he could barely feel the effects of his uncle's numbing poison (which led him to move on to some far nastier stuff, much for Dalrus' dislike), he had actually learned how to skillfully move through dangerous (and potentially fatal) terrain unscathed, and even how to lose skilled trackers out for his limbs. So when Silvius told him someone far meaner would be his teacher for the day, the boy was fully expecting some mean old crone missing an eye, had a claw for a hand, and had poisoned jagged picks for teeth. The fact his first lesson would take place in the back of the town's church only helped strengthen this idea.

The sun was almost setting now, so, for once, he was ahead of schedule. The boy sighed, an apple being hurled up and down on his right hand, the other resting in his pocket as he leaned over a short brick wall and watched the soldiers marching back and forth among the streets. These days Gilneas had a far darker atmosphere. Word of the dark events taking place all over the kingdom had reached them. Many people barely left their homes, and there was a high tension in the air. The church was particularly full, many sermons lecturing how the Light would protect them from this profanity taking place over and over again.

Darkness always settled soon in Gilneas, as the sun would vanish over the edge of the wall and cast a long shadow all over the place. Lamps were already being lit, and the church bells began to ring, signaling the end of the sermon. A crowd of people flooded out of the church doors, followed by the very same priest whose name Dalrus never bothered learning and who performed his own birth. He was talking to a couple of old ladies who insistently offered him a small pouch, which he again and again refused to accept. Dalrus had become so enthralled by the little display he didn't even notice someone was behind him until a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around and a raspy, dry old voice said: "What you doin' here, boy? Sermon's already over!"

Dalrus almost screamed and fell back. Good heavens, it was almost exactly what he imagined. The crone before him had skin even more wrinkly than his uncle's, with her one functional eye glaring at him, the other one a milky white orb. Her nose was also far longer and even more crooked, giving her the appearance of a parrot. She was clad in long dark robes with a little cap covering her probably bald head. "I, uh... Sorry, lady. I'm here for my lessons. I'm Dalrus." He quickly replied, trying desperately not to say anything stupid to anger the lady who looked like she wanted to chomp a piece off of him. "Dalrus Plaguefang. You know, my uncle Silvius sent me? Said I should train here for the next few days?"

The woman just scoffed, her one good eye running up and down his figure. "You ain't gonna last ten minutes with that attitude. Come on, boy." And with that, and a grip as strong as iron cuffs, she grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him inside the church. They quickly passed through rows of seats that had been previously filled with people and down along the back. As they walked, Dalrus couldn't help but notice that, for some reason, the sides of the church sported huge water pools. Odd.

They went down through the back, and still Dalrus was dragged off, now entering a dark stone corridor. He figured the priests and trainees would live there and they were headed to their quarters to do some boring book watching, but suddenly the woman took a sharp turn and led him to an, incredibly, even darker and colder corridor. There weren't even any torches there, the only source of light came from some grates along the wall - apparently they were underground now. Finally, they reached the end of the corridor, where a thick, old wooden door awaited them. Without any ceremony, the crone opened it, pushed Dalrus inside, saying: "Margaret, another one came in." She then left, shut the door off behind her and screamed from the other side: "I'll pick you up in two hours!"

"Wait, what?" Dalrus blinked in confusion as he stared at the sealed door he had just been pushed through. He reached for the knob, and found it was locked. "What the hell? What am I supposed to-"

"You must be Dalrus." Suddenly came what was possibly the sweetest and most melodic voice Dalrus had ever heard in his life from behind him. Slowly, the boy turned, and his mouth hung open in stunned silence.

The room was perfectly circular and very large, as much as the main hall back in his home. The walls were covered with shelves full of books, bottles with liquids of many different colours, vials, objects that appeared to be dried up corpses of animals, insect husks, amulets, religious symbols, and a bed could be seen on one side. To the far end of the room, opposite to where he had entered from, there was a large inclined desk, a single candle offering a reading light for the many scrolls spread over the old wood. But what had made him go absolutely mute was the woman sitting on the stool before the table and had turned around to greet him.

First of, it was the most stunningly gorgeous woman Dalrus had ever laid eyes upon. Her hair was long, silky blond that fell around her beautiful face and shoulders like curling vines. Her locks were glimmering even under that ghostly candle and moon light. Her chin was thin and angular, her cheeks high and well defined, her lips plump and red, and her eyes sported a dark makeup around them that made the green orbs underneath all the more alluring. She was smiling brightly at him, her hands resting upon her lap. She wore a rather simple, long white dress, with purple details swirling along her sleeves and sides, all the way down to her skirt. A small amulet could be seen resting over her collar, a pattern Dalrus had never seen or even heard of before. It was oddly entrancing... Almost as much as what was laying right beneath it. "I am sister Margaret. Your uncle has told me much about you, sweetie. Please, come on in."

Almost as if in a dream, the boy readily stepped forward, his eyes glued to her fantastic figure. She let out a playful little giggle. "Do you have nothing to say, dear?" She inquired, her eyes half closing as her lips parted further in an amused smile, showing off her stunningly white teeth.

"Ah... Yes. I'm... Dal. Dalrus. Dalrus Plaguefang. Of house Plaguefang." He blinked a few times, still entranced by her beauty. He also took notice of how her dress was pressed against her curves in that dimly lit room. And oh boy, what curves...

"I already knew that, silly. You're the only one meant to visit me tonight. Come here." And with that, she turned back around and patted a second stool right next to her. It took him a few seconds before he realized he was supposed to go sit there. After reaching that epiphany, he quickly scrambled forward and sat down besides the priestess, now trying his best not to stare at her, and failing.

"Now, I understand you are attempting to peer into the dark, endless Void, but are having trouble with it. Is that true, dear?" She once again smiled down at him, her right hand holding a parchment in front of her as her left one drew or wrote something Dalrus had absolutely no idea what it was because he was too busy staring at his teacher's beautiful face. "That is understandable. Not many can handle the pull, dearest. It has quite an effect on both your mind, and your body."

"Yes... It... Pulls... My body." He stupidly stated, now taking notice of a small mole just below her left eye. It was tiny and pitch black, barely a lump on her divine figure. Somehow it only added to her stunning beauty.

"Of course, love. I know all about that. Don't you worry, after we are done here, you will have a far deeper understanding of this matter!" She chimed happily, now hunching slightly over as she feverishly scribed something on the parchment. Again, Dalrus was too busy admiring her to take notice of what it was.

"Right... Right... Deep... Matter... Uh... So... Ah..." He blinked a few times and cleared his throat, realizing he should probably say an actual sentence. "So, uhm... You're... I mean... You're different from what I thought you'd be." He finally managed to blurt out.

The priestess suddenly stopped and launched a very curious look towards him. "You don't say? Why, I hear that from so many people! I wonder why that is?" She launched him an angelic smile that made Dalrus want to smile stupidly right back at her.

"Ah... Well... I guess... You know... Silvius is kind of scary..." He said without thinking much of it.

For some reason, this made the priestess laugh. And oh, did she laugh. She threw her head back as if she had heard the world's greatest joke. It really made him happy to know he had that effect on her, his juvenile mind not processing that should have been a red light. "Oh, sweetie, don't you worry... Your opinion of him will be much better once I'm through with you!" She happily stated, then turned back to her parchment and resumed her quick scribbling.

"Yeah... Haha... He... Wait, what?" FInally his brain managed to process what she had said, then, furrowing his brow, he turned his head down to look at what she had been doing this whole time. It looked like a series of circles on the paper, with strange runes he couldn't make head nor toe adorning the edges. Just as he looked, Sister Margaret appeared to apply the final touches and say: "Done! Alright, honey. I hope you can last longer this time! The last boy Silvius sent me could barely survive one hour before he broke!"

"Uh... What?" Were Dalrus final words as the priestess blew softly on her finger and whispered a few words Dalrus couldn't understand but sent a chill down his spine. Her finger was covered in a swirling purple energy, and she proceeded to poke first the paper, then Dalrus' forehead. The paper's glyphs came to life, emanating a dark, purple glow and swirling like a maelstrom that literally pulled Dalrus' mind right out of his body. His body collapsed lifeless over the table, and darkness took over his entire vision.

Cold. Oh, that terribly familiar cold. He remembered it, but the scariest part was, it remembered him. He gazed down into the swirling dark abyss below... And the abyss gazed right back at him. It called to him. It urged him closer. Dalrus blinked. The abyss blinked back a thousand times, with huge eyes popping into existence all around him. "I... See... You..." Was the deep, terrible voice whispering within the depths of his mind.

He screamed. The darkness laughed. It enjoyed his fear, his panic, his hopelessness. "You are one with the void." The voice whispered. "Join us. Open your mind, and let madness consume you..."

Amidst a vortex of swirling darkness, shadow tendrils reaching out for him from all sides, hundreds of eyes peering down on every aspect of his body as he fell infinitely, the only thing that the poor boy could think of saying as the voice whispered into his mind was: "BUGGER OFF, MATE!"

And suddenly he opened his eyes. He took in a deep breath, as if he had just spent five minutes underwater struggling to rise to the surface, and sat up. He had been laying down on a bed. The priestess' bed. The woman seemed very shocked to see him there. "Oh, my goodness! I wasn't expecting you back so soon! Are you still sane, my dear?"

"What... In the... Bloody hells... Was that!?" He managed to gasp out amidst heavy breaths, his hand rubbing his neck as if he expected to find a hand choking him. Sweat was trickling down his brow, and his entire body was shaking.

"Why, sweetie, that was the void!" Margaret happily said as if amusing a child who asked where the sun came from. "You see, dear, that portal I drew was designed to temporarily send your mind in there. Like jumping into a bottomless lake, I wanted to see how far you would go before swimming up. But I never expected you to resurface so fast!" She clapped her hands once excitedly. "How wonderful! And you seem to be in one piece, too! Yes, what a resounding success for our first session! I get a feeling you are very talented at this, dear."

"You... You sent me... You plunged my mind into the bleedin' void!?" He practically squealed, his voice going high pitched for a moment. He cleared his throat and sat at the edge of her bed. "Are you bloody mental!? I could have... Died, or... Or, freaking worse!"

"Don't be silly, sweetie." Was her very calm reply. "Your body would be absolutely unharmed. At worst, the void would completely consume your mind and leave you a drooling vegetable for the rest of your days! Oh, but I would recover some of your sanity. Enough for you to eat and use the bathroom on your own, at the very least!"

Dalrus could simply stare at her dumbfounded. "You bloody psycho, what was even the point of that!?"

"Well, so you can have a better understanding of it, of course." Margaret placed her writing feather down on the ink bottle and turned around to face him fully as she had done earlier, her hands resting upon her lap. "Tell me, dear, do you know what the Void itself is?"

Dalrus hesitated. "It's... Some kind of force, right? Like... The Light? Or something?"

Margaret sighed. "Yes, I was afraid of this. Come closer, dear."

Dalrus didn't move one inch and simply squinted down at her.

"Oh, I won't do it again this time! It's just easier to talk face to face!" She explained, launching him another angelical smile. Still, however, he did not move, only continued to squint at her. Sighing again, she said: "Oh, fine. I'll come over, then." She spent a few seconds noisily dragging her stool along the stone floor until she was right in front of him. "Alright, sweetie. Do you know what the Light is, then?"

"It's... I know it's a power that just... Exists." He furrowed his brows. "Paladins use it, and so do priests. It can heal and shield people, and hurt and burn the wicked. Or something like that."

Margaret once again sighed. "Well, you're not wrong. But that's just the popular knowledge of the uneducated. You see, darling, the Light is much, much more than you can even imagine. Where should I begin..." The woman crossed her legs, which lifted her skirt up to her knee. Dalrus could see she was wearing dark high heels, and her legs were complete and perfectly smooth. That only distracted him momentarily this time, however.

"Alright, honey." She began to speak. "Back then, I'm speaking thousands, hundreds of thousands of years back, longer than any creature can even count... The universe was filled with the Light. It is a primordial force of all things we could consider good. Life, warmth, perseverance, determination... It was a force of life itself. It was like an ocean, swirling and mending everything in its waves. But... Can you guess what was in the spots the Light didn't fill up? Spots that were just left... Empty is it ebbed and flowed?"

Dalrus hesitated for a moment. "Well, I mean... Anywhere that doesn't have light, has... Darkness, I guess?"

Margaret smiled at him. "Exactly. By pure law of nature, literally anywhere the light didn't fill, there was an empty Void. And things began to stir in this void. See, while the light was warm and embracing and good, the Void was dark, cold, and, one might say, evil. The Void sought to spread it's reach among all that existed. This battle between Light and Darkness is believed to be what originated the known universe. That is what we know as the Twisting Nether came to be."

Dalrus blinked, and then he remembered that orcs had literally come from another world, which meant they all lived within a colossal void with giant floating rocks that happened to have living creatures on them. After that momentary existential crisis, he brought his mind back to the matter at hand. "And why exactly are we trying to learn how to use and control an evil consuming force that wants to cover the entire universe?"

The priestess giggled. "Why, sweetie, evil is such a subjective word. The Void isn't exactly evil, it's simply performing as it is within its nature. Like how bees collect honey, orcs wage war, dogs chase cats. The Light is something meant to protect and mend. It is virtue, to surpass our selfish desires and be used for the sake of others. But the Void is more akin to a survival instinct. It is the polar oposite of that notion. The Shadows hurt the body and the mind of others, feed on their negativity to empower you. You could say the Light is like a shield, and the Void is like a terrible, hungry sword who feeds on the souls of others."

The boy blinked again. "And... Why exactly are we..." He began to say.

"That, dear, is a matter of personal choice." She interrupted him. "I mean, sure, you could easily embrace the Light as many others within this place have. They can save lives and guide others to salvation. But me, well..." She tugged a hair lock behind her ear. "During the first war, I came to realize that just relying on the Light to save us wouldn't do much good. Because you see, honey, the Light is a living thing. It has a mind and a will of its own, and that will is expressed through creatures known as the Naaru."

"The what?" He lifted his brow at her, his trembling now stopped.

Margaret reached for the pendant over her chest and showed it to him. It looked like a bunch of glass shards floating around a main core. "The Naaru, sweetie. Some say they are the origin of the Light itself. They are physical manifestations of the Light, beings who were molded and exist within it, and are capable of existing in our world. It was one of these that taught Uther the Lightbringer how to wield the Light and give birth to the order of Paladins. They are the origin of this religion as well. Many believe the Naaru will lead us to salvation."

Dalrus crossed his arms and leaned his head to the side. "And... Will they?"

"Oh, darling. I thought by now you would know better than to believe in the words of mystical beings composed of primordial energy." She smiled down at him. "I say we shouldn't simply accept the divine words of any being, regardless what they are. We are free to choose our own paths in this life, dear. That is why I decided that, while all those around me embraced the Light and decided to be paragons of justice, I would peer into the Void and better understand this terrible power. You see, Dalrus, someone has to do something like this. There are always grim jobs that most people wouldn't want to take. Many prefer to bask in the warm light, but you and I know... They can only enjoy the light because of those who act in the shadows."

The boy went silent for a few moments, his head lowering in contemplation. "But... How can we even control something like this? I mean..." He looked up at her. "I could tell whatever was in there had no interest in helping me. It wanted to see me fail... To see me fall."

"Well, you're not wrong." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "The creatures that lurk in the void are always desperate to see you fall into their open maws. That is why you must be stronger than them. Your will to live must be stronger than theirs. I told you the Void is more akin to a survival instinct than anything else. It wants to eat, so it won't be eaten. That is why you have to muster such a strong will, it will learn that, by sticking with you, it won't run any risks. Understand?"

"Uh..." He furrowed his brows. "Not really. Why does it even care? Why would it let me do something like that?"

"Goodness! You are awfully curious!" She clapped her hands excitedly. "Yes, this is wonderful! What an eager student you are! Oh, I am loving these questions! You and I could make so many breakthroughs together! But unfortunately, it is very late now. You should go home, sweetie. We can continue your lessons tomorrow!"

"Late? But I've only been here..." Dalrus' words were lost as he looked up at the grate close to the ceiling and saw the full moon shining down on them. How long had he been unconscious?

"It's fine, honey. I know you are curious, I can understand! Once you take a glimpse at the void, you just can't help but want more and more! Don't you worry, sweetheart. I will be sure to let you sink even deeper next time!" Sister Margaret smiled warmly at him as if she were offering him a joy ride in her carriage by the lake. "I can only imagine how excited you must be feeling!"

A few minutes later, with his hands on his pockets, his head low in contemplation, Dalrus found himself dragging his feet along the road. As of late, close to no one was seen around the streets, except for the occasional guard. The head priest of the cathedral had given him a parchment explaining why he was out so late - being instructed in the ways of the faith, or something like that - and granting him leave to go home. Not that he needed something like that when he could prowl around invisible to anyone's eye.

It was when he was reaching the outskirts of the city and approaching the road towards his manor that he saw her again. A girl accompanied by three mastiff pups was sitting by the road, idly petting one of the pups as she looked up at the full moon. He immediately recognized the face of Lorna Crowley.

Curious, the boy approached her, already working up a charming smile as he said: "Well, long time no see. Fancy seeing you here, Lorna!"

The girl suddenly jumped up to her feet, holding one puppy to her chest like a precious gem as she looked around very alarmed. "What? Who's there? Who said that? Show yourself!" She was wearing a simple white dress under a leather jacket, with a belt around her waist holding a few bags and a dagger.

Dalrus began to chuckle and was about to reply, thinking she was joking around, when he remembered he was still covered in his stealth cloak. Deciding to take advantage of the situation, he slowly stalked closer, circling around her back so he could, as silently as a puma, walk up to her and whisper in her ear: "Boo!"

The girl let out a sharp yell and turned around, her fist swinging blindly at the space where his head had been a second ago. His reflexes allowed him to dodge the lucky blow, but the sudden movement broke his concentration, and his stealth broke. Grinning mischievously, the boy doubled over as he began laughing. "My gods, the look on your face! I didn't know you could scream like that, Lorna!" So busy he was laughing, he didn't realize she had walked up to him until her knee met his cheek. With a loud 'oof', Dalrus fell on his side, rubbing his face. "You bloody bugger! You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack!" She hissed, taking a moment to pick up the other two pups in her arms and scowl down at him.

Still rubbing his face, Dalrus got up and shook his head to clear his mind from the dazing blow. "Nice to see you again too, love. What are you doing in the city, this late at night?" He inquired, raising a brow at her.

Still frowning angrily, Lorna resumed petting the dogs in her arms. "Father said I should stay here while the undead approach. He fears it's not safe within our lands anymore. At least the part that's outside of the wall."

"Ah, yes. Of course." These days, Gilneas had met a flood of refugees from the villages of Ambermill and Pyrewood. It would make sense Crowley would want his own daughter somewhere safe. "And how is your old man doing?"

The girl hesitated, then looked away from him, her hand idly rubbing one of the pups behind his ear. "He is... Father is busy. He's had words with the king... Nasty words. He says... That the time for talk is over. I'm not sure what he means by this, but... Whatever it is, I'm sure for now he's focusing on helping defend the city. Everyone back home is really frightened."

"I can imagine." Dalrus then reached out and began rubbing one of the puppies under its chin, which made the tiny, wrinkly creature close its eyes and lift it's head at him. "And what about these little guys? Friends of yours?"

"Ah, yes. Father wanted me to bring them here while their parents were taken to battle." She furrowed her brows. "I'm not happy with this, but I know it's for the best. Father usually had me walk them at night, and the moon was so pretty tonight, so..."

"Gotcha." Placing his hands in his pockets again, he looked up at the glowing full moon that stood high up on the sky above them. "Sure is a complicated situation, eh? Got the dead marching from one side, demons from the other, everyone but us running off across the sea..."

Lorna went silent, her gaze shifting down at the mastiffs who were now yawning and wriggling around in her arms to try and get more comfortable. "Yes, well... Maybe if Greymane wasn't so pig headed, we wouldn't be in this bloody birdcage when all hell began to fall around us."

Dalrus shrugged. "Hey, even I thought it was a good idea at the time. Who could ever think that the dead would rise from their graves, the king of Lordaeron would be killed by his own son, and demon portals would open left and right? Seems like stuff got out of control pretty quick, wall or not."

"Well... Yes, I suppose." She grumpily conceded. "Still, at a time like this, we should be united... Not isolating ourselves even more from the world."

"The world is a bloody mess of a place, love." Dalrus scratched his head distractedly. "Everyone thinks what they are doing is the best for everyone. But no matter what decision you make, so long as it affects people other than you, someone will be unhappy, and someone will praise it as the best idea ever. That's just how people work."

Lorna launched him a curious look. "Well, aren't you the philosopher. Did your teacher tell you that?"

He shot her a cocky grin. "Nah. I just... Well. I may be young and sheltered, but even I can tell something like that. People should just live their lives rather than looking for someone to put the blame on, and focus on doing what we must do right now instead of thinking about how things should have been."

Finally, the girl smiled at him. "Aye, that doesn't sound too bad. Well, I need to get going. I don't wanna be caught out like this. Have a good one, eh?" Waving him farewell, Lorna turned around and began to walk down the road, the same way Dalrus had just come from.

"...Yeah." He said to himself once she was gone. Dalrus looked up at the full moon one last time just before a passing cloud shrouded it. "I'll sure as hell try, love."