"Good morning Hampton." Said Arkerya. "The usual roles and corn bread with Dwarven Mild I presume?" "Aye lassie." Said the dwarf pulling out his coin pouch. "And how is the family?" This is the small talk Hampton always made. Of course nothing had changed from yesterday or the day before; they were a family of bakers, the most uneventful and repetitive life one could ask for. But remembering her manners Arkerya politely repeated from yesterday and the day before, "Fine." "That's good to hear lassie." Said Hampton as he took a bite of his fresh role. "Hmm. Tastes different today Ark." He exclaimed matter-of-factly. "It is still the best pastry in town." You and your father are the finest bakers in Tirisfal." Arkerya was a little taken aback by this. Her role tasted strange? That doesn't sound right at all. She hadn't done anything different or used any different ingredients. She hadn't over or under cooked it and she definitely didn't use stale grain. It was just delivered early that morning from Andorhal as usual. Never-the-less, Arkerya was a perfectionist to be sure and there would be no second class pastries on her watch! "I shall make you a fresh batch then Hampton. I'll not have my best customer disappointed..." "No, no lassie." Hampton interrupted, "I must be going. The bread tastes only a little different and, as I said, it's delicious. Sorry to eat and run, but I have my fields to tend. They don't plow themselves you know." He paid his 20 silver coins and headed toward his farm to the north.

It was nearing 11:00 already. A baker doesn't see much business in the afternoon, so Arkerya started to close up shop. Her brother Drew came into the kitchen to help. He had short blonde hair and a strong chest for a child. He was only tall enough to reach on top of the kitchen counter and had a freckled face. And, as usual, he was on a mission to get out of the house and do something exciting. "So what are we going to do today Arkerya?" Asked the little boy hopefully as he began putting out the oven fires. "Drew I'm not in the mood for an adventure today." said Arkerya lazily. "You're never in the mood for an adventure!" cried Drew. "And you always just want to work on some dumb old sewing project. You're so boring!"

"Oh stop it!" said Arkerya reproachfully. "I am not boring and my projects are not dumb! Don't tell me you hate your new quilt that I finished the other day." "Well..." said Drew "no, but you are definitely boring! I mean you sit on the rocking chair outside and put a needle in and out of some fabric all day, unless its morning and you're baking. You're a walking, talking, sewing, baking cliché!" Arkerya smiled and shook her head at her smart little brother. He was usually right about these things. Accepting defeat, she said "Ok, you win. How about we go play on the beach today?" "Alright! We haven't been to the beach in a long time." "Well then hurry up and finish before I change my mind." Arkerya playfully mused.
Drew and Arkerya continued cleaning the ovens and dough splatter everywhere when their mother came into the kitchen. She was a pretty woman of average height with short red hair like Arkerya's and a freckled face like Drew's. She was also 8 months pregnant and in a delicate condition but, as was their family tradition, she never faltered and always stood proud and strong. "Cleaning up already?" She asked. "The rolls don't make and sell themselves you know." "Oh mother..." retorted Arkerya, "...you sound exactly like Hampton." She tensed her face, squatted low and did her best impression of Hampton, "My fields don't plow themselves you know!" Drew laughed. Arkerya's mother gave her a stern look and wagged her finger. "Arkerya! Be kind. He's a sweet old dwarf and he works hard every day to provide vegetables for our table. In fact, I'd dare say, you could learn a thing or two from him about a hard day's work." Arkerya smiled and shook her head again. "I know, I know." she cooed and turned back to her cleaning.

Arkerya's father walked in the front door having finished his daily routine in the stables after he made his deliveries to the mill and the capitol city Lordaeron. He was a tall, burly, blonde man in his middle age. He had a moustache and a gruff, but kind look about him. He was strong as an ox, but only about twice as smart. Their mother was always the brains of the operation. He removed his coat and walked into the kitchen to see his family. "Quitting a little early today are we?" He asked. "Yeah! We're going to the beach. You wanna come too, dad?" Drew replied. "No, no, I have chores to do around the house." He glanced at their mother suggestively who returned another stern look. "Ovens clean?" He asked quickly. "Spotless!" Drew said just as quickly. "Did you wash the dishes?" "Washed and in the proper spot in the cupboard." Sweep the ashes out of the grates?" "Done, done and done!" Their father finally let up. "Okay you can go then." Drew grabbed a few wedges of cheese, two apples, some bread and two cinnamon rolls from the pantry and untidily put them on a basket before taking Arkerya by the hand and practically dragging her out the front door.

It was a pretty day outside. There were no clouds in the sky except for what looked like a storm to the south, but it was far away. The breeze was gently blowing from the ocean and the summer air was crisp and fresh. As the two of them made their way to the west through the woods and then the grassy fields, they playfully chased each other around and laughed. It was these simple games that kept Drew and Arkerya close. Both of them loved the beach, even though Arkerya was usually too lazy to get out of the house or had a more adventurous plan on her mind. She was the one who had the idea to explore a cave to the north of Hampton's mill two winters ago. They ended up waking a bear from hibernation and Hampton had to fight it off with his hunting bow. The bears pelt now is mounted on the farmers wall and proudly so. Hampton was not at all unhappy about the little misadventure and was pleased to add another trophy to his collection. Drew, however, never returned to northern Tirisfal despite Arkerya's plea's to explore the rest of the cave in the summer time.
After a half hours frolic across the plain they reached the beach. Drew immediately tore off his shirt and dove straight into the ocean. Arkerya set down the food and lied back in the surf and soaked in the sun. "Arkerya! Arkerya! Look what I've caught!" Drew said excitedly as he held up a small young murlock in his hand. "Very nice Drew. But you know that the mother murlock won't take kindly to you handling her young like that. Best to let it go you bully!" Arkerya replied over a wave as it crashed into the shore. "But..." Drew started but he was interrupted by Arkerya who quickly said in a mocking stern voice: "Put it back." Drew sighed and released the young fish creature back into the sea. Arkerya lied back again in the surf only to receive a large mouth full of salt water. Her mischievous little brother was obviously in the mood for a friendly splash fight. "You're dead!" She exclaimed playfully. "Bring it on." Drew replied with a ready look about him. The two of them wrestled around in the water until they could barely stand. "I so got you good. You should have seen the look on your face when I got you that first time!" Drew laughed. "No way boy! You were defenseless against me. Say it! Say I win and maybe I'll go easy on you the next time." Arkerya retorted, not to be outdone. The banter continued as they ate the food Drew had packed that morning. After the meal Arkerya noticed the clouds that were far away before were much closer. "Looks like a storm little brother. We should head home soon before we get rained out." she said. Drew nodded in disappointment and grabbed the empty basket and the two of them headed back to the village.

The air was growing colder as the thunderstorm approached and the wind was picking up. The two of them hurried back across the field and through the woods back to the hillside settlement. They entered their house and closed the door just in time to escape a loud thunder clap. "Fun day except for the storm. Thanks for coming with me Arkerya." Drew said happily. "It was my pleasure little brother. Thanks for dragging me out of the house." Arkerya said beaming at her brother. The thunder and lightning continued, but no rain came as the two sat in their dimly lit living room. The cloud cover was extremely dense and the air was getting thicker with the racing wind. Suddenly, there was shouting outside. Arkerya got out of her chair and looked out the window to see what was going on. What she saw would change the course of her life forever. Absolutely nothing could have prepared her for what was staring back at her through the window. Startled, she moved as far from the window as possible grabbing Drew by the shoulder on the way.
The window shattered and a raspy voice yelled "Death is here! Death is the only way. Death is your release from your mortal bonds! Welcome death feeble mortals!" What the hell… Arkerya thought, is that? She soon saw what the hell it was, but she was compelled not to believe it. It was a man, sort of. His bones were showing at his waistline, his bottom jaw was missing, he had only his left arm, he was blind and what was left of his skin looked and smelled of rot and decomposition. He was an undead zombie! A fear quite unlike anything she had experienced as a baker gripped Arkerya as the creature hobbled at what must have been a run at Arkerya and her brother, but fear, disgust and horror stayed her feet. The zombie was half way across the living area, drooling serrated blood from his throat. It swung its fist at Arkerya, hitting her in her left temple. Dazed, she fell to the floor. It then tackled Drew and proceeded to claw away the flesh on his stomach.

Drew was sprawled out on the kitchen floor wailing in excruciating pain and anguish as the creature chewed at his mid-section. And then there was a second crash and the creatures body flew against the wall and went limp. Arkerya came to and her father had swung the fire poker into the head of the creature. "Father! Help Drew!" she wailed in horror. Her father turned quickly to Drew and ran to his side. He kneeled down and took his son in his arms. Drew lay motionless. Arkerya came in close and bent over Drew's motionless body and the two of them fell silent. Arkerya's father closed his eyes and shed a silent tear. He was dead. The brother Arkerya had just spent the day with was dead. Arkerya was speechless and horrified. Arkerya's father, being an ex soldier, put a hard look on his face and rose to his feet. "Come. We must get to the Lordaeron citadel." He uttered gravely. Arkerya couldn't move. In the course of about forty-five seconds her home had been invaded, her brother had been murdered and now... the monster was moving again! It crawled and struggled to get at Arkerya now and she finally came to her senses and ran across the kitchen to her father, looking back at her poor brother. He grabbed her and led her through the living room and out the back door into the village square to meet her terrified mother. And it was then that Arkerya and her family fully realized just how dire their situation was. Dozens of abominations of death were marauding her quiet hillside village and killing everything in sight. The town guard was fighting the undead all over the place, but the scores of zombies were too many and the guard was overwhelmed. Villagers all over were bleeding and dying and being torn limb from limb. But they didn't stay dead. The villagers who had been killed were now moving again, and they were not the friendly people Arkerya had known. They had become the vile creatures that had killed them. Arkerya thought of her brother and almost threw up but didn't dare to look back for him. Her father was a middle aged man and had seen his share of fighting in the past. But that was years ago and he hadn't touched a sword since, not to mention the number of undead was growing by the second. And to complicate matters, her mother was pregnant. If it was a hopeless fight for the guard, then it was surely a hopeless fight for a family of bakers, and it didn't take long to sink in what they must do. "We must take refuge in Lordaeron." Arkerya and her family quickly ran behind dozens of other fleeing villagers for the stone archway outside the village. The undead tailed them closely, shouting about death and the coming of the "Scourge". After what seemed like miles and miles of running as fast as they could and still nowhere near Lordaeron, a glimmer of hope issued from the east. Riders bearing the crest of Lordaeron charged the mob. The knights tore past the refugees, weaving in and out of the terrified villagers, and cut through the zombies with their long lances, sending the undead in different directions. And when the mob was nothing more than squirming body parts, the knight-captain bellowed: "Run for the citadel!" We will hold off any other pursuers." Arkerya and her family traveled through Tirisfal Glade for another 4 hours and finally reached the great gates of Lordaeron.

The portcullis rose and the tired villagers moved through. Lordaeron guards directed traffic into the town center where volunteers were handing out food and drink to the weary refugees. The town centre was renown throughout the world for its beauty and craftsmanship. The streets were paved with finely carved stone blocks and the grass was green and healthy. The flowers along the walls were in full bloom, giving a serene sort of mood to the place. The fountain shot water high into the air which fell gently back into the bowls beneath it by some arcane charm. But its true magnificence was veiled by the many people who had lost their homes and loved ones to this strange and vulgar new foe which tore Tirisfal asunder. In fact, there were hundreds, maybe thousands of them. Arkerya had never seen such a gathering of people before. Whatever happened in her village must have happened all over Tirisfal as well.

Arkerya and her family moved through the crowd to the fountain in the center of the city and rested at last. At least, they tried to rest. But the thought of drew and his awful fate mortified them. They wept together. None of them spoke for a long time, but just sat in the thick and cloudy air, silently crying and wishing it was only a terrible nightmare, that Drew was fast asleep in his bed and they would wake up in the morning to make their pastries for their usual customers. Arkerya actually longed for Hampton's idle chatter, the same chatter that annoyed her every morning at about 10:30. But a loud noise brought them all back to reality. Just then the gates crashed open and some of the riders who saved Arkerya quickly halted at the entrance. There were only about 8 of what must have been at least 50 men. They rode to the stables and dismounted and then disappeared into the keep. For a long time the grief did not allow any of them to move about and try to find familiar faces. It was only when an important looking man appeared on the balcony above the centre did Arkerya look up. The man spoke, "People of Tirisfal, I bring news from the front lines. It seems our enemy has moved throughout Tirisfal from the southeast and has advanced all the way to Brill. All that remains is the monastery to the north and this city." A Murmur of panic and dread issued from the crowd. "But fear not my people. Help will come and Lordaeron will survive. We must hold true to the light and keep our faith in the alliance. As we speak, forces march north from Stormwind and Ironforge to eradicate the undead. We will pull through. We will survive. Even now in these trying times I hear word of Prince Arthas returning from Northrend. He and his forces combined with our own will take back our land and have vengeance for the death and destruction we have endured today. And for the time being, fear not. Within these walls a few men can stand against an army for days and there is an army inside them now. The good people of Lordaeron and our soldiers will now set up temporary housing for all Refugees where we can. All I ask of you to is stay calm and stay here. Outside these walls there is no safety." And the man disappeared back into the keep.

The name Arthas seemed to bring a new fervor to the people and the guards. Prince Arthas was a Paladin in the Order of the Silver Hand. If he was returning, then the entire order of holy fighters would soon be at the gates. Arkhel "The Glorious", Balladore "The Bright", Sage "Truth Bearer", and their leader Uther "The Light Bringer" would all soon come to the aid of Tirisfal with hundreds of paladins at their side. It seemed that salvation was at hand and the human race would prevail. But there was little rejoicing on the streets of Lordaeron. So many loved ones had perished that day and so many more were left homeless and alone. Drew's death was almost too much for Arkerya. She and her family hardly talked for the next two days and Arkerya didn't eat for three. A full week passed with no word from Stormwind, Ironforge, Arthas or the Silver Hand. And to add to the anticipation, there was a haze and a quiet outside Lordaeron. It wasn't like the usual silence and tranquility of the forest, but rather a deathly quiet, one which was the work of something unholy and sick. But no undead appeared before Lordaeron. Every now and then a voice would be heard in the keep shouting about battle tactics or what to do next, but the refugees had nothing to do but wait.
And after 8 days of waiting, Arkerya and her parents were waiting in line in the courtyard for their rations when the bells atop the Cathedral began to ring. Cheers bellowed from all over the city as the portcullis opened for the first time in days and Prince Arthas appeared out of the mist and crossed the bridge into Lordaeron. "He's here! We're saved. There is hope!" Said Arkerya's mother. "The prince is back and the dead will rest. And we can go home." The city was in an uproar. People all around the walkway to the keep threw rose petals onto Arthas and the two guards at his flanks. The excitement and rejoicing was so loud and the thought of victory was so intense that nobody noticed that Arthas was alone. Not a single other being crossed the gates with Arthas and the sun seemed to fade. But it didn't matter. Arthas, their savior was back and the armies from the south and the Silver Hand were surely close to Tirisfal by now. The zombies who had now become known as the Scourge were sure to cower and fall now that help had arrived. Arthas ascended the stairs to the keep and disappeared inside. "Arthas will save us." said Arkerya. "Help is here and more help is on the way isn't it father?" "Indeed." Said Arkerya's father softly. He then paused and said "I love you both. And I wish Drew was here to celebrate with us. We all miss him and will never forget him. And soon he will have retribution when a soldier bearing the crest of Lordaeron cuts the ones responsible down. I hope that I will get that chance." Arkerya and her mother exchanged confused looks and then looked at her father. "I have decided to take up arms again. I've volunteered for the Lordaeron army." "NO! Don't dad. You don't have to do this." Cried Arkerya, forgetting all about Arthas. "If you die too the new baby will grow up without a father and mom and I will be alone." "And what if I don't Arkerya?" interrupted her father. "Should I just let Drew's fate be and forget about how they ravaged our home and killed our friends? Or maybe I should just forget how they attempted to take you and your mother too. The king has called all willing and able bodied men to arms and I am able and more than willing. I'm going to do..." but his words were drowned out by a loud, deep, dark sounding voice. "This kingdom shall fall, and from the ashes a new order will arise that will shake the very foundations of the world."

That same fear that took Arkerya in the house on the day of the invasion gripped her again, for this was a voice that she and all of the people of the eastern kingdom knew well. And to think that it just said what she thought it said was truly devastating. She and all others scarcely dared to believe it. The one man who gave them hope, the one ray of light in an ocean of despair, the would-be savior of the final free living mainstay in the north had just announced his betrayal. Arthas, prince of Lordaeron and paladin of the light, was raising the dead. From the city cemetery the dead rose from their final resting places. From the corpses of fallen guards and murdered townsfolk came the same abominations she saw before. And now the deathly calm outside the walls had become a colossal army of the living dead. They came and kept coming out of the haze that surrounded the city walls. With Arthas's arrival, the gates were wide open and the walking dead, the Scourge, swarmed the defenseless hordes of people. The Lordaeron army began to fight, various schools of magic flew in all directions, and the clergy ran from the cathedral and began speaking to the light, which answered in kind. "This is it then..." said Arkerya's father." Run as fast as you can and don't look back. I'll find you when the battle is won. I promise." "YOU CAN'T!" Said Arkerya's mother. "You'll die. I can't lose another member of my family! I won't let you go dad." Said Arkerya. "Not another word." commanded her father. "If it is blood that will save my land, family and friends, then it is blood I'll shed. I'll give every last drop of it in my body, and Drew's fate will be avenged. I love you both. Take care yourselves and remember; don't look back." Arkerya made a grab for her father, but he was gone. Yet again another of her dearly beloved family had been taken from her by the Scourge. But her mother, being older and wiser than her daughter, took her hand and started to run.