Chapter 2: NORTROM

(Disclaimer is at the prologue of this story) Story may not be accurate to that of written accounts in various sources.


The elderly priest was swiftly walking down the stairs as if hurrying for something. The appearance of a satyr like Rikimaru was a significant breakthrough in his overall scheme. He had always known that the Alliance and the Horde would return. One day, these two races would leave the western continent and scour the remnants of these plagued lands. These two races would continue the war that was quite interrupted by the Burning Legion's invasion. It could be said that the orcs and humans were rivals in blood.

The elf priest continued the long walk down, finally reaching the dusty first floor. The world around him was quiet. It was almost the middle of the night and nothing around him stirred.

He stepped towards the door but stopped almost immediately. Something on his right hip was vibrating, glowing a bright green color. He reached through his robes and plucked out a green gem of magnificent aura. The dark first floor was suddenly bathed in fresh green light.

"Nortrom, what a surprise..."

The elf priest held out his green gem farther into the room and suddenly as if appearing out of thin air, a red-robed elf stood in front of the priest. The robed elf, like all elf priest accomplices, held a big red shield and hung a golden glaive on their backs. The only thing out of place in this robed elf's uniform was a shiny silver axe with crooked teeth for an edge. This axe was the most peculiar since it looked like a ghost of an axe than a true weapon.

"You wanted to meet me, Master?" the robed elf spoke in very low tones.

"Of course, but not here," the priest shook his head. "I was thinking talking with you in a more lush environment..."

"There was a satyr," the elf named Nortrom growled. "What was his business with you...?"

"You're quite curious, aren't you, Nortrom?"

Nortrom grunted. "I'll get straight to the point. Why did you call me for, Master?"

Nortrom spat as he pronounced that last word. This disrespect seemed normal with the priest as if he spoke like this to people everyday.

"I gave the satyr a mission," the priest began. "It's the same mission that I give to you..."

A vein pulsed on Nortrom's right temple. It was obvious that the elf was growing impatient. "I don't have time for your foolish games, Master. Just get to the point..."

"Didn't I tell you that the satyr had the same mission as you had..."

"What, you want me to go find that satyr?" Nortrom spoke as if this was the most outrageous idea he had ever heard.

The priest nodded. Nortrom's jaw dropped.

"What's the satyr's name?"

"It is for you to figure out, my accomplice. I believe it is time that you begin your own journey. It is time for you go independently from the hands of your guardians..."

Nortrom's eyes suddenly lit and there was a hungry look in his face. "Am I being initiated... as a Master?"

The priest sighed. "You have much to learn, Nortrom. Unless you have humility and patience, you cannot even hope to obtain an initiation from the Arcane Sanctum. I have taught you everything I know and your only hope of initiation lies within yourself. And so I send you on this perilous journey in the hopes that you would learn even more than I..."

Nortrom cried in outrage."No!! Give me one chance to be initiated! I won't fail!"

The priest shook his head and began to walk out.

"Master! I beg of you, Master!" Nortrom dropped his shield and axe on the floor and prostrated himself before the priest.

"You humiliate yourself on personal gain. How pitiful..." The priest sighed and left.

Nortrom lay there and searched for another reason for his failure to be initiated. He tried to put the blame on others but all his mistakes led to his own doing. There was no other reason.

Nortrom stood up. I have to find this satyr...

And he began the long walk up the stairs.


Rikimaru was still on the topmost floor of the West Tower. The landscape was still dark but a slight white haze was erupting from behind him. The sun would rise in a few hours.

It was hard to believe that just after a war was just about to end, another would erupt. This time around, the orcs and humans would be back on board. The Alliance and the Horde are rivals by blood...

Rikimaru sighed at his reflection in the wide window. And once again, the satyrs would be a part of this war...

There was a sudden creaking from beneath him and Rikimaru jerked from his thoughts. The elf guards must be up early. If he was found in this floor all alone, one would think he was desecrating the sacred top floor...

Summoning power from his inner mana pool, he breathed a dark blue mist. The mist covered most of the floor and thus shielding Rikimaru from view.

A red robed figure emerged on the floor coughing loudly from all the mist. "Hello, anybody here?"

Summoning more energy from his mana pool, Rikimaru attempted to do his Blink Strike move which would make him disappear and strike his opponent in one second.

But his mana pool transferal was suddenly interrupted when a sudden burst of energy erupted from the robed figure. The energy was sufficient to knock out the connection of Rikimaru and his mana pool.

"Show yourself, satyr! I know you're there!"

Rikimaru did not show himself. He was attempting to collect power from his mana pool and failure in doing so would mean not being able to sustain the smokescreen he placed. Slowly, his blue mist was deteriorating...

Rikimaru grunted. He'd have to deal with this manually, something he didn't get to do often.

The mist was on the verge of disappearing when Rikimaru struck. His sharp scythe pierced the elf's armor almost reaching skin. The elf stumbled over toppling down the stairs along with Rikimaru.

The elf immediately grappled Rikimaru's forehead transferring a curse into the satyr's system. Rikimaru writhed in agony. His mana pool bubbled intensely but he could not reach it, to soothe it from its pain...

The elf stood above him rubbing the side of his back where the scythe pierced through the armor. "Good thing, I'm in a good mood or I would've killed you. Don't worry those spells would wear off..."

Rikimaru was still groaning but the agony was slowly wearing off and the prospect of reaching his mana pool looked none to impossible anymore.

"I think you've met my Master." The elf reached out a hand to help the satyr up. "We met by the first floor."

"What do you want?" Rikimaru blurted out.

"I am Nortrom, a Silencer from the Arcane Sanctum," the elf said smoothly. "I came under the Master's orders."

"I've never heard of such a specialty," Rikimaru screwed up his eyes in suspicion. "There is no such thing as a Silencer."

"The Silencer project's quite confidential. The elders are experimenting a new branch of magic for us elves."

"I'm still not convinced. You may be an elf guard trying to fool me into following you." Rikimaru's eyes suddenly bulged. He should incapacitate this guy!

"You don't want me to curse you, do you?" the Silencer said threateningly.

"You have no idea what you're messing with, elf..." Rikimaru was on the verge of using his Blink Strike before the same wave of energy swept over him again, blocking connections with his mana pool.

"That is one irritating curse. I'm Rikimaru." Rikimaru said, giving up all attempts to cripple this elf. He was very good.

"It's a handy spell I call Global Silence, Rikimaru. Now, to business..."

"What information do you need?"

"My Master has sent us to do something," Nortrom said. "He wasn't keen on details so I'm here to question you on it."

Rikimaru looked through the wide window once more. If there was someone strong to accompany him, it would be this guy...