~Soulcleaver~

Part V: "Welcome"

Rolling hills of green grass, roads of dirt lined by trees made up this beautiful land known as the Hillsbrad Foothills. Farms, a few towns, a watch tower or two and a fortress were what gave clear indications to the fact that people inhabited this area. The two towns were trading posts; one for the northern mountains of Alterac and beyond and one for the southern seas of Lordaeron. Tarren Mill and Southshore were their names respectively, the citizens of each town living in relative peace.

To the east were the Hillsbrad farms, and to the west was the Internment Camp for the orcs known as Durnholde Keep. There was no worry in the people's lives, despite the close proximity of the savage and ignorant creatures to their homes.

In the town of Southshore, there is an inn, named after the town. Daily, people come in and out to rest, relax and meet up with old friends and family which they had left behind. Rarely, it often also served as a hospital and a homeless shelter.

In the upstairs first bedroom, there was a man lying on the bed. He was young and handsome, his hair released and falling over his shoulders and down a bit of his chest. He had a beard that circled around his lips, which was connected to sideburns that ran up to his head. He laid there with just a pair of linen pants, showing the rest of his body as sculpted and near perfect and flawless aside from a few scars.

Beside his bed, a woman sat on a stool, tending to him. She wore a white robe with a pink vest, straight blonde hair flowing from her head and cutting off just past her neck. Her eyes were blue as the sky and from her hair lengthy pointed ears were directed up at the ceiling. She looked quite young, but the dull fire which could be found within her eyes showed she was older than she appeared.

A groan came from the figure on the bed and his left leg curled inward, the knee coming up at a wide angle before stopping. After several minutes later, his eyes shot open and his body lurched forward. The man took deep breaths, letting out each with heavy sighs.

"By the ancestors… Where am I?" He took a long look around at the clean room. He didn't even notice the elf yet, but instead moved his legs from the bed and stood up. He walked over to a spot by a series a drawers with a bowl of water resting on a small table beside it and leaned down, cupping some water in his hands and bringing it up to his face.

As soon as the water made contact, he took full realization of what happened. With that revelation, he stumbled back and fell back on his bottom, raising his hands up to his face to look at them. They were tan instead of green. He also noticed the change in his tone of voice; he had a gentle but deep voice, instead of the brutish one he was so familiar with.

"Wh-what the f-…" He started off, but was silenced as he turned his head and noticed the woman in the room, sitting beside the bed he had moved from.

"Soridormi said to expect company, but we had no idea that you were so clueless," The woman's voice was soft but obviously quite harsh. The man ignored this remark.

"Who are you? 'We'? What?" He stammered in confusion, taken by surprise by his new form and the odd woman. Without much effort, he pushed himself to stand up, his head looking down over his new body, turning his head to look behind his back as much as he could. At that instant, he noticed the hair. His hands proceeded to reach up and begin groping at the soft albeit slightly greasy hair. His slimmed fingers ran through it time and time again before a sudden knocking at the door caused him to stop and turn around.

Three knocks sounded on the wood before it flew open and slammed into the wall beside it, leaving a black chainmail boot in the middle of the air. The foot lowered slowly to show another human, one with neat, black buzz-cut hair and a serious, clean face. His armor was green and brown scale mail, a long oaken bow over his back with the string over his chest and a combat knife in his right hand.

"Is this the man we're waiting on?" The man spoke with authority, his strong voice loud enough to probably be heard from outside the window or downstairs. He was several inches taller than the recently awoken human, allowing him to barge into the room and walk over to the elf sitting still. An annoyed but calm voice came up from behind the intruder.

"Nikolai, relax. It's probably his first time through the stream of time. It was the same with all of us." A man in dark red robes flowed up to the doorway from out of sight, his footsteps so quiet he could have just literally floated into the room without anyone noticing. His hair was down past his shoulders and was a light brown color. From his sideburns, hair grew down to his chin and formed a bit of a beard at the tip while growing up to cover his upper lip as well. His left eye was purple and the right was gray and he wore a pair of dark purple gloves.

"All of us…?" Nuk'hara was sincerely curious at this point. Who were these strange people? At what point in time was he at? Who said he needed help, anyway?

"Bah… You're no use." As Nikolai finished questioning the quiet elf, he turned and walked out of the room, the magic user stepping to the side to allow him to pass. "Come on, we can't keep the others waiting. Brutus is probably getting hungry."

"Your dog is ALWAYS hungry," retorted the robed one in the most sarcastic way he possibly could. He turned about, his grey eye shooting to look Nuk'hara in the eye before he began to follow his companion. The transformed orc took one look back at the Elven woman.

"How the fel am I going to get any work done if I have no equipment?"

"You came in with nothing but an axe."

"And I'll leave with that axe, too! Where is it?"

"It's outdated. Courtesy of the Bronze Dragonflight, we have given you an upgrade. You'll find it at the destination. The others will lead you there. And remember, in here, you are no longer the orc you were. You are now a human."

"Fine. I suppose I'll need a new name, since Nuk'hara isn't very human-like."

"It's already been decided upon. Your new name is Graylander. Dalton Graylander."

"It's decided, then. Any more surprises before we begin our mission?" The elf grinned at that, a grin which made Dalton cringe some.

"You'll see," she said simply.

"Cryptic. I hate puzzles." With the wave of a hand, he started down the stairs to meet with his group. An scale-clad archer named Nikolai, a pious and kind priestess named Monika, a heavily armored warrior named Brandon; a mysterious mage named Guilford. After gathering their equipment and armor from the nearby forge, a weaponless Dalton and his companions rode their way to Durnholde keep on horseback.