I was really not expecting a review from now, but wow, thank you "Nick"​, I was even considering abandoning the story and starting another.

Also, to clear up any possible mistakes on my part, and so avoiding spoiling the story, I'm moving the timeline forward, to Post-WoTLK, IE., Northrend is included with this story. Sorry for the inconvenience!

Also, HEED THE STORY RATING

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Book 1, Chapter 1

Patient waiting

Fifty Gold, it bought them a place to sleep, a meal to eat and seperate rooms on an Alliance boat set for Booty Bay, reason being Trya needed to stop at Stormwind before they headed back to Moonglade or Darnassus. Another payout from a Job in Goldshire, taking out a pompous soldier to make a vacancy for promotion, it had Stormwind on alert for two days.

Trya rose from the human sized tub that was her bath for probably the next week or so. Rarely did one have a chance to wash on a sea vessel. Some would think that with her body, she would be a courtesean or a high end love slave, but no. She not only inherited her mother's body, but also took on her father's passion of ranged combat, this lead to her becoming one of the rarest type, and also one of the most effective type, of Assassin, the Dead Shot.

She did not flatter herself with her skills or materialistic possessions, for that would mean she would descend to a petty prostitue or sissy's level, which she did not intend to. As she dried herself, she left her mind drift in her thoughts of what she would do when they arrived back home, if they even did. Each job she took had its risks, and she took them knowingly that she might actually die.

Her train of thought was interrupted as Sarn placed his hands on her hips. She had just pulled on her leather pants, but her chest had remained bare. He growled into her ear as he hugged his body to her, and she felt a suspicious tickle at her inner thigh,"I could not help but notice you acting the siren, so hows about we start the mating season ear-Ow!"

He cried out as she twisted his left hand's tiny finger round painfully, using this as a pivot to spin around and wrench his arm behind his back and force him against the wall in a lock. Trya was slim, yet damnably strong. She peered downwards and saw that he was wearing thin pants, but the front part, which was slightly crushed against the wall right now, had an evident tent in it. "You're going to leave this room, and we'll pretend it never happened. There are plenty women at the bar if you're feeling primal.

She smiled at him as she let go of him. He left her room with an artifical pout which soon disappeared as he left her room, as he really did notice the amount of females in the tavern.

Trya sighed, same old Sarn, always trying to get her on the right day so that he can have his way with her, but so far, no luck. Trya admired him for his persistence, as she put on a thin shirt, lay down on a stiff bed and slept.

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A cry was heard before an explosion shook the Spire, Silvermoon's tallest building. Out of the door rushed a black masked figure, carrying a scroll in it's fingers. Spellbreakers began to crowd the entrance, but the person only smiled under the mask as it opened the scroll.

The scroll remained suspended in the air as Runes glowed off it and the black figure pumped mana into it. The Spellbreakers almost laughed or smirked and moved forward, to attempt an en masse spell lock on the Spellcaster.

They never got the chance as something akin to a horde of Kodo or a boulder hit their backs, sending them flying before they could even mutter a word.

Another cliffhanger :3, Do not worry, I promise the next Chapter will be longer, Pwetty pwomise!