On the day that Grudamere and his companions escaped Lordaeron, Grudamere wasn't the least bit concerned about the situation deteriorating. The north was all but annihilated, Gunhilldur was dead, the Scourge had multiplied exponentially, and the only three of them left were in the middle of it all. But with each gray and gloomy day that passed, a new horror crossed them; werewolves, dark hounds, wargs, and undead of all kinds. For the past two weeks the air had grown thick with infection. The traps they laid fetched mostly infected animals, so food was hard to come by. Water was dirty and sometimes poisonous. Shelter was nonexistent. The situation had indeed deteriorated greatly.

After the day of their escape, they made southwest for Silverpine. As soon as they crossed into the long southern road through the woods, they were immediately assaulted by a pack of giant wolves the locals called wargs. The wargs posed little threat to the heavily armed dwarf, but the imminence of danger set the mood for the journey.

Four days after the wargs, the three came into contact with a vicious white werewolf. The beast had lunged from the shadows for the injured Remus, but even in his weakened and sick state, Remus had managed to draw his sword in time to make a swipe at the half-wolf. Grudamere then stepped in and fought the monster. It took several close calls and a ground struggle to finally slay the beast. Luckily, the werewolf hadn't managed to bite either of them.

All the while, demon dogs with leathery, hairless, dirty violet skin, known as dark hounds, and unnaturally large bats assailed them on a regular basis. The foul canines never attacked in packs, so fending them off was a relatively easy task, although they horrified Vanessa.

The undead were all over the place in southern Tirisfal. They roamed freely, unguided by Arthas in groups ranging from the size of a platoon to the size of a battalion and also aimlessly on their own. Grudamere had led his two companions on numerous evasive paths through the edge of the forest to avoid such threats. But the growing Scourge presence unnerved Grudamere. It was believed that every single Scourge was controlled by Arthas or one of his lich commanders, but with so many of them moving about by themselves, theories about the undead were becoming sketchy in Grudamere's eyes.

But after all the hardship and danger, through hunger, thirst and fatigue, against all odds, they had reached Silverpine and were on their way south to the Hilsbrad Foothills. The group's spirit may not have been high, but progress was evident to all three. Hope proves frail, but hard to kill.

Grudamere walked in front of his two remaining companions, ever vigilant for more of the white iris flower he had been using to slow Remus's infection. The iris's healing properties made it resilient to the effects of the plague and the flower had been doing a better job than Grudamere expected. Though he didn't dare mention it to Remus, he originally thought that the old man had no chance at all.

The other two strode quietly behind the dwarf and made not a sound. Even the slightest sound of life might alert an unfriendly something to their presence. It's not as though there was much to talk about anyway. Remus had received more than enough reassurance than he needed and Vanessa wasn't so hopeless anymore that she needed any of her own. The trees were dead or dying, the ground is gray with decay, and the air stinks. All the conversation that was to be had was when one of them spotted an iris.\

The days seemed long, as the sun never really shone through the hazy and polluted air. Grudamere stopped as the minuscule amount of light began to fade. He spotted a small thicket and decided it was time to stop for the night. "Over there." He half whispered. The other two looked relieved.

"I will take first watch as usual." Said Grudamere. Remus and Vanessa lied down and curled up in the leaves. Grudamere sat down in front of their hiding place and waited for something to come after them.

The forest grew unnaturally dark, as it did every night, and Grudamere remained vigilant. In the distance he heard a series of howls that probably came from werewolves. As the time flowed he found himself thinking about what lay ahead.

We have been traveling for little less than two months. That should put us about ten days from Southshore. Remus doesn't look so good. It only took Arkerya three and a half days to turn and he has lasted for over fifty. He may not make it to Southshore. I'll have to keep a close eye on him. Grudamere looked over at the silhouette of the now sleeping Remus. I hope it doesn't come to killing him.

Hours had passed and it was time to get some rest. Grudamere woke Vanessa. "You're turn lass." A weary Vanessa stood up, stretched and rubbed her eyes and then went to sit where Grudamere had been. Grudamere likewise too Vanessa's spot in the thicket and closed his eyes. He had become accustomed to the chilly air and foul smell and went straight to sleep.

Remus awoke him the next morning with an iris he had found. Grudamere sat up and immediately pulled out his stone mortar and pestle. He picked the petals and put them in the bowl and ground out the juices. He added a little water and ground some more until he had a pasty substance. A good fire and a few other herbs would make the medicine more potent, but they couldn't risk a fire and the herbs in the forest had died a long time ago.

Remus removed his shirt to reveal the festering wound. The veins on his right shoulder were horribly discolored and the flesh had been eaten away by the fel bacteria. Every time he saw it, Grudamere got the chills as he imagined what the poor man must be going through.

Grudamere swallowed and then swabbed the chunky paste onto the wound. Remus put his shirt back on and the three continued their silent journey south. On and on they trekked paying heed to every sound and sight other than their own. They came to the rocky precipice that blocked their path. Grudamere was waiting to find this, for on the other side was Ambermill. The road east to Southshore lay just outside the town.

"Have either of you ever been to Ambermill?" He asked. Remus and Vanessa shook their heads. "It was a cozy little village. I spent a week there with my family when I was young. I wish you could have seen the trees and greenery glow in the setting sun. It was…" he paused. "…magical." Grudamere reminisced for a second and snapped back to the present. "Alright then. The road turns east on the other side of the rocks here to Southshore. But to get around them, we need to take the road. This could get dangerous so keep a sharp eye out." "How long to Southshore?" Vanessa asked. "Last night I thought we'd be there in ten days, but it would seem we are ahead of schedule. Since we can follow the road now, we should see the ocean in about six." Grudamere replied. "How are you holding up Remus?" Asked Grudamere. "I've lasted this long. Six more days should be a piece of cake." Remus replied a little less strongly as he would have liked. Grudamere noticed Remus's weakness and then disappointment, but said nothing. "Very well. Let's get on the road."

The three weren't far from the road at all. It only took about half an hour to reach it. But when did reach it, they saw something none of them could have guessed was coming. A man, seemingly uninfected, was picking a white iris.

He was unaware of their presence at the moment and Grudamere, though overjoyed to see another living person, was skeptical. "What do we do about this?" Vanessa whispered. "I say we avoid him. He seems a little too good to be true." Whispered Remus. "I'm not so sure Remus. Maybe our front in Hilsbrad is further north than I anticipated." Said Grudamere.

"He's not a soldier. Hell, he's unarmed altogether. Something isn't right here." Remus said. The man looked around as if he had heard something. The three hid behind a large tree and peeked out at the now vigilant man. "Keep it down Remus." Grudamere whispered. "I can hear you!" Bellowed the man. "Show yourself."

He can hear us? Grudamere thought. If you live, show yourself and I will not harm you. If not, then face me." Said the man out loud. "What do we do?" Remus asked Grudamere. How did he hear our whispers? We must be fifty yards away.

"He did say that if we are living, he won't harm us. I say we give him a chance." Said Vanessa. "Don't do anything stupid lass. Don't go getting yourself killed." Grudamere warned. "I am going to approach him. Keep an eye on me ok?" Said a now bright and rather excited Vanessa. Grudamere and Remus exchanged looks and then they looked at Vanessa together.

"No Vanessa." Grudamere said as her expression changed slightly. "We need to stay together. We'll all go. What can one man do to the three of us anyway?" The three stepped out from behind the three and walked towards the man. He looked wary of them but Grudamere put his hands up to show they meant no harm.

A closer look at him revealed a healthy, clean human being with very short brown hair, a bushy mustache, strong and chiseled features and a cheery attitude unbefitting of the present situation. At a distance, Grudamere had his reservations about him. Up close, he was downright distrustful.

"I am Grudamere Broadbeard of Kharanos. This is Remus McGrady of Tirisfal and Vanessa. Who are you and how have you escaped the plague?" Grudamere asked rather sharply. Vanessa shot Grudamere a dirty look, but the man seemed undaunted. "I am Arthur Stendhal of Silverpine. My home is just to the west in Pyrewood village."

There was a short pause in the conversation. The man spoke before the others. "You look as though you have traveled a long way." "Aye." Remus replied. "We fled Lordaeron and are bound for Southshore." "You came all this way on foot? And with such strange folk about? You must rest in Pyrewood!" Exclaimed Arthur, seemingly impressed. Grudamere didn't like the sound of that at all.

"We are grateful of your hospitality, but as you said, Southshore is only a few days away and time is a luxury we don't have." Said a cautious dwarf as Vanessa chimed in immediately. "Speak for yourself Grudamere. We haven't had any real food for the entirety of the journey, never mind a hot meal. And a mattress is also tempting. One night couldn't really hurt us that much could it?"

"But…" Grudamere started. Something is fishy about this guy. A living village in the middle of this blight. That is all but impossible. "I have to agree with Vanessa. A night of undisturbed sleep would do me good." Remus hinted at Grudamere so as not to reveal his infection to the stranger.

The situation was delicate. On one hand, Grudamere was just as weary as his companions and a comfortable place to rest for the night sounded nothing short of delightful. But on the other hand, it was just too good to be true. If Ambermill was deserted, how could Pyrewood survive? Grudamere was almost certain that this man was hiding something, and, as always, Grudamere's instinct ruled him. If he could help it, the three of them would never speak to Arthur or anyone from his village again.

"As I said, we are grateful for the offer. But we will continue on to Southshore without delay. Let's go." Grudamere commanded. But neither followed him as he began walking away. "Remus, Vanessa, might I have a word?" Said Grudamere.

The three huddled and Vanessa apologized to Arthur. "Grudamere, what's wrong with you? You are just as weary and broken down as I am and Remus doesn't get much sleep anymore." Said Vanessa. "It's true. A mattress would most definitely ease the pain." Remus added.

"I'll gather some pine needles for you to sleep on from here on out if it means that much to…" Grudamere stopped as he noticed how insensitive he sounded. "Look…" Grudamere sighed. "… I know you are tired. And yes, I am tired too. But that man is a miracle. He isn't acting like a normal person would and he is much too healthy. How does a little village like Pyrewood carry on in all of this? I don't trust him one bit." Said Grudamere. Vanessa seemed a little put out by this. "Grudamere…" She started, but hesitated to finish. "…Please."

Her plea was Grudamere's weakness. As usual, the plight of the weak weakened him. At long last, Grudamere looked into the eyes of his two companions. Remus was not only weary. He looked as though his last legs were weak at the knees. And the fragile Vanessa was practically begging him for a simple nights rest. Grudamere sighed heavily and held his ground.

"I'm sorry. I cannot trust him." He said. "If you're so worried about it then let's just ask him some questions. I'll do it if you won't." Said Vanessa staunchly.

"Mr. Stendhal. How is it that your village survives all this devastation?" She blurted out, striding back towards him. "Your skepticism is quite understandable." Replied Arthur. "It's quite simple really. We in Pyrewood were fortunate enough to have a priest in our village who is also a capable enchanter. With both these talents, he was able to enchant an orb to ward away all things undead. Her name is Lillian."

"There you go Grudamere. Can we please stay for a night now?" Vanessa pleaded once again. While still wary, the explanation was sound and put Grudamere a little at ease. At last, he caved. "Very well. If it will make you two happy." He said reluctantly.

Vanessa smiled broadly. "We thank you again for the offer. Which way to your village?" She asked. "It's a half hours walk from here. I will take you there myself. Off we go then." Said Arthur cheerily.

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"There it is!" Said Vanessa excitedly. "Finally, we can eat at a table and sleep in a bed." During the walk while Vanessa and Remus conversed with Arthur, Grudamere had had time to think on all of this. Maybe I need a rest just as bad as they do. Perhaps I may have judged Arthur harshly. He thought to himself.

The three of them strode right into the village as if all was well in the land of Silverpine. But the village itself was obviously under lockdown. Any people who could be seen were peering out of their windows or from balconies on two story houses. If not for the four of them walking through the village square and into the inn, the place would have been a ghost town like Ambermill. Guess I can't blame them. If I were them, I'd hide indoors too. The inn was quite cozy, despite being void of patrons. Still, the bar tender manned the bar like usual and the inn keeper greeted them normally.

"Hello and welcome to The Wanderers Haven. I am your host, Belinda. Please come in and stay for a while." Said the inn keeper in a rather creepy tone. Grudamere noticed this as he noticed everything else, but said nothing.

"I am so hungry I could eat a kodo raw." Said Vanessa. "I'm afraid that food is a little sparse right now. We do have ingredients for a good meat stew though." Said Belinda with just a tiny emphasis on the word "meat". Grudamere noticed once again her odd demeanor, but held his tongue as not to draw attention to them. Ok, so the keeper is a little strange. That doesn't mean she's an enemy in disguise. Keep an eye on her and leave it at that.

"Stew sounds wonderful. I'd like some water to drink as well please." Said Vanessa. "I'll have a bowl of stew and some ale." Said Remus. "And for you, master dwarf?" Belinda asked. "Sure… I'll have one and a glass of water too." Said Grudamere, unable to hide his wary state of mind. Luckily, Belinda didn't notice. "Alright then, three house stews coming right up."

The three sat in their chairs and waited for their food. Vanessa spoke up first. "See Grudamere? Nothing but a harmless village who got lucky. And you were worried." Grudamere didn't answer. "Oh, come now." Said Remus. "If we even got to eat tonight, it would be a malnourished squirrel or some other rodent. Stop being so somber and enjoy this." "We leave at dawn." Said Grudamere aggressively. "Stop it. You are such a…" The look that Grudamere gave Vanessa was positively frightening. She didn't dare finish her sentence.

The three of them sat in silence after that, waiting for their food to arrive. We'll be fine. Just stay on your guard and if a dangerous situation arises, handle it with a cool head. Though Grudamere. After about twenty minutes, the stew arrived. It was a red meat dish, with carrots and peppers and tangy spices. The chunks of meat were fresh and the aroma was quite enticing. Vanessa immediately dug in and Remus swigged his ale before eating his food a little more politely. Grudamere, however, looked carefully at his dish, playing with the chunky meat.

It seemed safe, and since Vanessa had already "tested" it for poison, Grudamere took his first spoonful. It was delicious. In the entire world, there was nothing that Grudamere could think of besides the chunky, steamy, scrumptious dish before him that was currently tantalizing his taste buds.

The journey has been so hard, food and water so scarce, rest so sparse. Who was I to tell these two we couldn't stop for a rest at a perfectly good village. I shall apologize fervently later to Vanessa.

By the time Grudamere had finished his thought, he too was devouring the dish. In a matter of seconds, all three of their bowls were literally licked dry. Belinda returned shortly afterward.

"You enjoyed it I see." She said. Grudamere no longer cared about her strange behavior. "More please! I must have another bowl!" Vanessa cried. "Aye! More! I must have MORE!" Grudamere said savagely.

"I'm so sorry…" Said Belinda. All three of them attempted to protest immediately, but their objections were cut short and all three fell to the ground. "…but that was your last meal." Belinda finished.

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Grudamere awoke to a noise he could not identify. His vision was badly blurred and his hearing dulled. His body was a bit unresponsive as well and with each movement he made, his muscles ached and his stomach churned.

Impaired as he was, Grudamere's head was as calm and cool as it had always been, and he quickly surmised what had happened. The soup was poisoned. Bloody hell! I knew something was wrong!

The off balance dwarf made an attempt to stand but ended up on his hands and knees instead. His hearing was getting a little better every second, but his vision and body remained debilitated. "Remus? Vanessa?" He called weakly. No answer. "Is anyone there?"

His words were answered by an unmistakable howl. The loud wailing sound pierced Grudamere's calmness. Struggling to keep his bearing, the dwarf moved away from the sound as best he could and ended up back down on the floor a few feet from where he had woken up.

Now the thing that howled was moving closer to Grudamere, growling with maliciously. With his hearing now fully restored and his vision getting better every second, Grudamere's plight became clear. Approaching him from the table where he ate earlier and also from the kitchen, were two werewolves.

I cannot catch a break. I just can't catch a break. Thought the dwarf furiously. Grudamere squinted to try and make out where he and his comrades were. He was still in the inn where he had blacked out. There were four figures in the room. The two lying still on the floor must be Remus and Vanessa. The werewolf was close enough for Grudamere to smell its rancid breath.

Grudamere scrambled away only to end up cornered by two walls. The monster came closer and closer until it plunged its claws into his shoulders and howled again. Grudamere tried desperately to fight back, but the poison was too much for his body and his strength failed. It was the end. Grudamere fought no more.

And then there was a disgusting grumble from the other side of the room. The werewolf pinning down Grudamere roared and then turned quickly, ripping flesh from Grudamere's shoulders as it did. There were sounds of ferocious fighting between two different types of unholy horror. Grudamere knew the grunts and gargles of a ghoul all too well, and as his vision finally cleared, he saw the brawl with his very own eyes.

On the floor, he saw bones and flesh and torn clothes. The werewolves had obviously been eating a fresh corpse. A ghoul and a half eaten corpse… The scenario became clear, and Grudamere despaired. As the ghoul and the werewolves continued to tear each other apart, Grudamere hung his head, and wept. Vanessa is eaten, and Remus has turned. I couldn't save them. I've failed again, just like I failed Arkerya. The ghoul, being much stronger than the gangly werewolves, threw one to the ground and continued to wrestle with the other. I am just one dwarf. What can I do against such reckless destruction and sacrilege? One of the werewolves managed to bite the ghouls left arm and then shook its head violently, tearing rotting flesh from bone. "Together we fall." Arkerya's words echoed in Grudamere's head. At last, Grudamere lost hope. All is lost.

Grudamere sat motionless with his back against the wall. It didn't matter which side was victorious, either would come to claim him afterward. So there he waited and watched as the unnatural creatures fought. The ghoul managed to finish off one werewolf, but the other bit down on its neck and then ripped its head off. Grudamere just sat and waited some more as the thing turned its attention back to Grudamere. It gnashed its teeth together and licked its lips ravenously. It bore down on Grudamere, preparing to devour his flesh and sate its famished belly. I raised its paw, and sent it flying down to Grudamere's head. The dwarf closed his eyes and tensed for the very end.

The world faded from Grudamere's eyes and a new, strange reality gripped him. Weightlessness released him from gravity's grip. Colors that Grudamere didn't even know existed swirled around him and then began to rush past him. Faster and faster he moved thorough the weird dimension and then even faster yet, but he felt neither pain nor inertia. It was as if the rules that governed existence were unraveling and the laws of science were no longer of consequence.

For what seemed like hours the Dwarf sped forward down this surreal tube until the end was in sight. A bright white light grew larger and larger in his eyes. He started to quickly slow down, however gently at the same time. So this is it, the end at last.

For all the pain Grudamere wasn't feeling, the pain in his heart remained. As the afterlife grew larger right before his eyes, he could think of nothing except Randall, Arkerya, Remus and Vanessa. Then he thought of Arthas, which only enhanced his already unadulterated loathing.

When Grudamere finally stopped, floating in mid air before what he presumed was the fork in the ethereal road, he found himself before a hooded white figure with great, white wings and a slender female body. Grudamere couldn't help but feel a sense of inferiority to the magnificent holy being.

She stared into Grudamere's eyes, seemingly scrutinizing him, and Grudamere was almost certain as to why. Softly, but powerfully, she spoke to him out loud.

"Your time has not yet come, Grudamere Broadbeard of Dun Morough. Your part to play has yet to come. Return now. Fulfill the new purpose which the light has given you." Said the deity.

Does this mean I get a second chance? Grudamere's thoughts were interrupted as he began to fall into a giant void with no bottom in sight. Gravity was again in effect and Grudamere's senses were clearing. The end to the void never came, but instead, the void itself faded away, and Grudamere winced as a staggering pain hit his shoulders, although not as badly as it had before. The blackness swirled and dissipated little by little until there was nothing left at all.

When Grudamere opened his eyes, he scarcely dared to believe what he saw. He had gotten to his feet. The werewolf attacking him lay dead before him, burned to death and the ground all around Grudamere was consecrated and his hands glowed with a brilliant light. The wounds in his shoulders were rapidly closing and healing and an aura surrounding him lit the dark room. Grudamere felt extremely strange.

Inside his head, the deity Grudamere encountered before rang in his head. "Press on, mighty Grudamere, for you have been chosen by the light. Unto you, they place the burden of delivering salvation to millions. The path before you is a treacherous one. You will have to endure much hardship and suffering, but in turn abolish the hardship and suffering of innocents. The sacrifices the light asks of you are great, but the consequences of doing nothing are even greater. The light has chosen you Grudamere. The light will help you to learn this new power of yours. Listen well."

The dwarf was stunned. Utterly stupefied, Grudamere found himself frozen in the spot where he stood. But this odd feeling rhythmically swelling and subsiding in his chest, almost like another living being, gave fervor to his feet. Out the door he ran, and then out of the village with daunting speed, leaving the remaining werewolves in the dust. They grew smaller and smaller behind him until they gave up altogether, not daring to travel too far from their safe haven. Grudamere stopped running and looked back at Pyrewood.

I'm sorry. Vanessa, Remus, I couldn't help you. Grudamere bowed his head and then looked to the sky. "If you can hear me…" He started, before realizing he didn't know what to say. Once again, Grudamere could only tell the sad and awful truth. "I can't help you now. I failed. But if I don't want the same thing to happen to the rest of the world, I must move on." The sullen dwarf lowered his head again. "Forgive me." He said.

With a jerk of his head, Grudamere turned east. Just ahead laid the road to Southshore; the road to safety. Not much ahead but pain and suffering. Grudamere started to run. Arkerya is suffering more. I've nothing to complain about. His newfound divine fervor kicked in, and not even his plate armor could weigh him down.