"GLLAAARRGLEGLARGLE- AGCCKK!"

The murloc hit the sandy beach heavily as Mariella's axe bit deep into its back. With a grunt, she loosened it from the now limp carcass glistening with sea water in the high noon sun.

Swiftly, she kicked at the small hut-like structure beside her. With a few more well-placed kicks, it gave way, the little wooden poles clunking hollowly as they fell.

Even though the Hillsbrad Foothills were a generally cool-climate region, the heavy plate and physical exertion kept up a sweat for Mariella and she found herself removing her helmet most days for a minute or two. The cool sea breeze felt wonderful against her damp forehead and neck as she shook her ponytail free.

Breathing in the refreshing, sea air, her headache cleared slightly. Drinking last night had been a foolish idea, only adding her head to the number of limbs and various body parts that ached as well.

Making use of her short intermission, Mariella attempted to stretch the painful twinges out of her by arching her back and rolling her shoulders, her thoughts drifting to the night before.

Mari, he cares for you.

Linda's words echoed continually through Mariella's mind, even now, when the guardswoman knew she should be concentrating on other things. However, she couldn't help but dwell on the fact that her sergeant had a certain interest for her.

After all, it truly was ridiculous! Mariella was hardly a looker compared to the rest of the town's fine maidens. Though most of the townspeople were lower-class farmer folk, a small percentage of them consisted of an aristocratic bunch all the way from Stormwind City. Mariella had been part of the militia company that escorted them from the city several months ago.

Sergeant Dean's lady also happened to be one of those sophisticated, upper-class women. Mariella couldn't quite recall the woman's name but she was among the prettiest and most finely-dressed of the city ladies.

Mariella was certain her chances with the sergeant were slim compared to the likes of a woman like that. Mariella was short and rather thin, and not quite so busty as the others, or perhaps it just seemed that way since she was normally adorned in masculine clothing or armor. Though she kept her long raven hair washed and clean, it was never nicely-styled or decorated with jeweled barrettes. Mariella knew she was just as plain, if not plainer, than the average farmer's daughter.

Then, there was the fact that Sergeant Dean himself was a charming and attractive man. He was tall and muscular with long chestnut hair that was usually tied back, revealing his strong handsomely-carved facial structure. His jaw was strong and his elongated chin sported a carefully-kept patch of brown hair that gave him a rugged, but well kempt look. The sergeant carried himself with a confident and authoritative air, but he was always open and friendly and never arrogant which earned him the respect and devotion of Southshore's citizens and his men alike.

The more Mariella thought of their differences, the more the idea of his attraction to her became ridiculous. He couldn't care for her; not like that. Perhaps, he only cared for her in a friendly way, maybe even a brotherly way.

Yes, that must have been it. He was only looking out for her as if she were his younger sister. Mariella's first instincts were correct. He only thought of her as a silly, young girl, incapable of protecting herself and the town of Southshore, which was practically under siege daily nowadays.

However, another tidbit of her conversation with Linda the previous night floated to the surface of her tired, slightly-hungover mind.

Linda had said the sergeant typically watched her from the piers in his few and precious spare moments. Immediately, Mariella spun on the spot, directing her gaze back toward the town. The edge of the pier was only just visible jutting out around the curve of the shore. Mariella could make out a small figure at the far end of the pier.

At such a distance, it was impossible to know the identity of neither the person nor what they were doing. It was foolish to presume the hazy dot at the end of the dock was Sergeant Dean.

It's probably only a local fisherman.

Suddenly, the garbled war cry of several Murlocs split the air.

Mariella whirled around just in time to see a dark object hurtling straight at her face. An explosion of pain erupted dead center in her forehead and Mariella was only vaguely aware of falling backward onto the sandy beach.

A curtain of blackness quickly swept across her vision.