Two more mouths to feed

We rushed out of Silvermoon with alarming speed and reached the outskirts of Eversong Forest. Lynnius checked our surroundings and made a “follow me” motion. She slipped into the shadows of the forest and immediately blended in with her surroundings.

“Stupid… rogue… pointy eared… pink skinned… good for nothing…”

“Jarisi! Over here!” Lynnius whispered in harsh tones. I stopped my complaining only to replace it with a low growl. I miss the bar already, assassin and all.

Lynnius crouched near a large tree that had many branches sagging low to the ground, it created a make-shift tent of sorts. She dropped her knapsack and took out a loaf of hard crusted bread and two small apples. With frightening ease she sliced the apple into bite size pieces and offered some of them to me along with a chunk of bread.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” I asked looking at her out reached hand.

“Eat. We will need to think of a plan, and to also try to figure out how our paths crossed and why I was sent to save you.” While she was yapping her perfect elf mouth, I was still trying to figure out this “food” she was trying to kill me with. Closing my eyes I put a piece of it into my mouth and started chewing.

“Oh Gods… this is horrid.”

“Well get used to it. Your diet of ale and spirits is over with. I’ll need your brawn and strength for the road ahead….. and you could lose a few pounds too.” She looked me up and down and shook her head and mumbled something under her breath.

“What, you didn’t save me for my good looks and wit?” I then began to do a dance that would make even the raunchiest person blush. I grinded my hips and then gyrated back and forth while holding my hands in the air. The Elf’s eyes grew wide and I thought I saw a slight hint of smile cross her lips before it faded away back into her expressionless stare.

“Stop that, you’ll scare all the animals within a half mile and then everyone would know our location. We need to keep a low profile the next few days. I suggest that you keep to yourself and not talk to anyone for a few days, excluding me. Don’t try to get in touch with family or friends for they may try and alert the guards, or worse, your assassin to our temporary hiding spot.”

“I killed my family.” I couldn’t believe those words were coming from me.

“What was that?” Lynnius asked.

“I killed my family.” I repeated, shocked again at saying it. I looked up to meet her stare and was a little taken back when I didn’t see a look of surprise or disgust on her face. Her eyes held mine and for a moment it looked like she was about to say something, then thought better of it. She dropped her gaze and began to shove everything back into her sack.

“Come, we can talk about a plan later. Let’s move further away from the city and find a cave or hollow tree that we settle in for the night.” She stood up and began moving through the forest as if she was part of it.

“You aren’t even going to ask any questions? Don’t you want to know what happened and why I would do such a thing?” I struggled to keep up with her pace and kept tripping over stones. More than once a tree branch seemed to come from nowhere and slap me in the face.

“We all have to do what we need to do at times. What happened in your past is of no business of mine. But this may make things more complicated. Have you ever thought this was the reason why someone was sent to kill you?”

“I… “

Before I could even continue speaking, the ground in front of us shot up and a loud explosion filled our ears. I grabbed the elf and pushed her hard to our right. We fell, coughing and sputtering and brushing dirt and plants from our selves. As the smoke was settling, tufts of white fluffy particles were falling from the sky and landing all around us.

“Snow?” I asked trying to grab one in mid flight. It definitely wasn’t snow, but I couldn’t seem to place this familiar fluffy substance. Then I remembered. “Sheep.” I said correcting myself.

I got up and put my hand down to help the elf but she was already on her feet, daggers unsheathed and at a ready position. Suddenly a figure popped out in front of us and before I could even blink, two daggers were sticking out of its chest. The figured swayed back and forth repeatedly but didn’t fall. It even seemed to be waving at us, taunting our failed attack. I approached the target only to find it a wooden dummy attached to springs and a box. I plucked out her daggers and handed them back to her.

“What is going on here?” Lynnius asked. Just as the words escaped her mouth, a male Blood Elf appeared from the woods followed by a giant white bear. He was talking to his bear and looking confused at the giant hole where we were just standing.

“Now that’s just not right Art, how could our exploding sheep have wandered off this far? I gave it specific instructions to explode directly on top of the snow shoe hare over to the west of here. Why did he come this way? And what is my target dummy doing out of its box!? Art, are you playing pranks again? Well I don’t think it’s very funny. You know I take my engineering very seriously! Don’t look at me that way Art! OH LOOK! Spare parts! Help me gather these. Did I say eat that mushroom? NO. Get back here and put this dummy back in his box. Art? Oh bother. Hey look footprints. OH. Well hello. Art, you didn’t tell me you invited friends over!”

Lynnius and I stood and stared and didn’t speak. I think we were both stuck in a stupor by this time. The occurrence was just too strange to have just happened. I reached for my axe but remembered it wasn’t there, and hasn’t been for a while.

“Art, your friends are very rude and haven’t introduced themselves. Bears have the strangest taste in people. Not literally of course. Hi. I’m Uros, Hunter Engineer extraordinaire. Pleased to meet you!”

He outstretched his arm to shake our hand, only to have all the engineering parts he was gathering fall to the ground. Mumbling and cursing he dropped down to pick them up again, seeming to forget our presence for the time being. Lynnius and I looked at each other and shrugged in unison.

“I’m Lynnius and this Orc is Jarisi. You almost killed us with that exploding sheep you know.” She lowered her brow and stared at him with her hard cold eyes. Instead of being intimidated he smiled and laughed.

“Art! Did you hear that? They think we tried to kill them! Now why would I waste an exploding sheep on the likes of you two? I save those for more ferocious animals. Speaking of which, where did that snow shoe hare go?” He turned and began to wander back in the direction he appeared from. Oblivious to the two of us again.

“Hunters….” Lynnius said through clenched teeth. “Think they know everything and can do anything. Come Jarisi. We didn’t cross paths with this one on accident. Something greater is at play here and I want to find out what.”

I blinked and tried to figure out all that was happening. Oh how my life has changed in the past few months. I just can’t wait to see what I stumble upon next. Maybe an Ogre!? A Dragon?! Or maybe Arthas himself?! Ha… That one made me laugh.

The Fallen Hero

As I wandered the streets of Silvermoon, I tried to remind myself that I would have treated the Foresaken the same way the blood elves were treating me. They ignored me and spoke only in Thallasian when I approached. If only the language I had spoken for so long would meander off my tongue again. I tried, but the words came out jumbled and confused - this is why they call it Gutterspeak.

At the rate things were going Lynnius would be dead before I found her. It had been a month since I had awoken and still no sign of her. But the odds were against me any how - I didn't know how much time had passed or how old she would be now - or if she still lived. My only hope would be her eyes.

Since she was a babe, her eyes had set her apart. Her eyes were a dark, cold green, but anytime she got angry or felt threatened they would gradually grow light until the glowed brightly.

I remember as a child whenever we travelled at night I would run ahead and jump out when the family passed. The first time every night would scare the hell out of her and the night would glow green.

So my options were to find someone who had heard of her or hide in the bushes and hop out at every red head that passed. But I was tired of spending my nights in the bushed and my parents could wait for their punishment. For now I needed to make some gold and wait for the one person I know could help. Not he that things would be easy when I found him. The Demon-talker had a way of disappearing when you needed him and in the hundreds of years I had known him I had never once heard him utter a word to anyone other than a Blood Elf.

No before I could even think of seeking Him out, I would have to regain my skills that had earned me the title of Sunstriding Hero.

But then since I had awoke, I hadn't held a sword in my hand. And while I knew first hand how powerful the Undead could be - the thought of entering battle again filled me with fear and apprehension. Although I am not sure what I am afraid of - it's not like I can die again.

No, in order to find my sister and destroy my parents - I would have to regain the strength I once had and prove myself to Him.

Now to find a sword . . .

Unlikely Friendship Part II

“Bar keep! I’m still thirsty!!” I growled while slamming down my empty mug. What does an Orc have to do to get a drink around here?

“Jarisi, you’ve drank one of my kegs already. Can’t you wait till tomorrow to run me dry?” Ok’thar asked. He was eyeing me again, waiting for me to have an outburst so he would have an excuse to throw me out of the bar. Well, try to at least.

I barred my teeth at him and snorted, the only polite thing I could think of doing at the moment. “May I have another drink…. pl…. pl…. NOW!” I slid the empty mug towards him and started to tap my nails on the bar. Ok’thar looked at it, picked it up, and filled it up with the frothy goodness I so craved. I grabbed at it eagerly and slammed it back and savored the feeling of the cold drink flowing down my throat. There is nothing better than a couple dozen beers in the early hours of the day.

So this is what I’ve come to? Spending my days at the bar drowning my guilt and sorrow in the drink? It doesn’t matter, I thought. Nothing matters. I tried to find who murdered my family! I searched most of Kalimdor and half of the Eastern Kingdoms, and found nothing. No one even offered to help me! It doesn’t matter, I thought again. Why should I care about that anymore? People accuse me of murdering my mother, father, and my poor little brothers. They are afraid of me! They call me Kinslayer now. I chuckled under my breath… “Kinslayer”.

“What was that Jarisi?” Ok’thar asked. He was looking at me funny again. It seemed everyone was looking at me differently. Well… they should. I’m not what I used to be. Before I was strong, agile, smart, and one of the better looking female Orcs. Now… now I was a mess to look at. My belly was soft and hung loosely over my belt. I hadn’t showered in days nor have I changed clothes. I felt my chin and sighed, even a female Orc can get a coarse beard if she didn’t keep it under control. Yep, I was definitely a mess.

“Nothing, leave me be.” I needed to get away from here. After this next beer I’ll leave. “One more Ok’thar, and then I’ll be out of your hair”. I need to change. This isn’t who I am. I’m not a loser drunk whose only friend is the bartender. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll start working out again. I’ll go practice with my axe in the early hours of the day and redeem myself. People will forget about my past, and start remembering me as Jarisi the Brave! That has a good ring to it. Or maybe Jarisi the beautiful? Okay, maybe not the beautiful, I couldn’t even think that without laughing. Oh, people are looking at my funny again. I need to stop acting like I’m crazy, talking and laughing to myself. Tomorrow, I thought again, tomorrow will be so much better.

I looked up and saw Ok’thar smiling at me and holding my beer. Now that’s service! I reached for the mug and right before I could close my fingers around it, it was gone. Why do things keep disappearing on me!? I was staring dumb founded at the hand that was supposed to have a mug in it when suddenly something splattered onto it. It was blood. Again with things disappearing and blood. I’m cursed, I thought. I looked up to question Ok’thar only to find him looking at me with a horrid look on his face. Two daggers were stuck deep into either side of his neck, and he was bleeding badly. Before I could even ask what happened or shout for help I felt myself being pulled to my feet with surprising strength.

What is going on!? What just happened? Who is this person? Then things started to come into view. I started to see like a warrior again. On the bar, near where I was sitting was an empty vial. Ok’thar was trying to hand me a poisoned drink. But someone had stopped him. Okay they did more than stop him, they killed him, but I was saved either way. My unknown savior pulled me into the shadows of the Inn and threw down some flash powder to hide our escape. Whoever this was, they sure knew how to make an exit.

We ran for what seemed like hours until we finally came to a building and my savior ushered me in. I finally got a chance to look them over and to my surprise it was a young beautiful Blood Elf. She was almost my height with long shiny red-orange hair that flowed down to her lower back. Her emerald eyes looked at me with such a steady calm glare that made me avert my eyes.

“Why did you save me?” I asked still unable to look her in the face. I felt ashamed this is what I had become. Unable to sense threat around me and not even able to save myself. I should be dead.

“You managed to piss someone off Orc” She said, her voice sent a shiver down my spine.

“Why did you save me?” I asked again. I had to know why this Blood Elf felt my life was worth saving. In my thoughts kept hearing those dark words from that mysterious cloaked figure. That I would meet unlikely companions and they would have a hand in changing my future.

“Because you couldn’t. What’s your name Orc?” Those words hit me harder than a Tauren’s punch to the face. She spoke the truth though; if she hadn’t been there I would have been too drunk and stupid to see what was going on around me. And I would have died, and no one would have cared.

“Jarisi. My name is Jarisi, elf.” I tried to stand straight and tall, to feel like my old powerful self again and to show her I am indeed something to be feared. But because I was not in the best shape, the button on my pants popped off and flew towards the elf who gracefully caught it midair and handed it back to me.

“My name is Lynnius. Look, Jarisi, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but we should probably leave the city. They will be looking for us and we need to figure out why someone wanted to kill you.” Lynnius looked at me impatiently waiting for my response. I stood there flabbergasted. My life is never going to be the same after this.

“ I would still like to know why you saved me.” I knew I wouldn’t get a straight answer from her but I thought I would ask again. So maybe the cliché saying that Orcs are stubborn is true. Lynnius smiled, which sent another chill down my spine. I could tell her face wasn’t used to smiling. It looked forced and rigid.

“Come Orc, we will talk in the forest” She turned and began to walk towards the gates of the city. And like a lost confused puppy I followed.

An Unlikely Friendship

The scrolls began appearing outside her tent almost as soon as she begun making the woods her permanent home. For months after she was left without her parents, Lynnius survived in the alleyways of Silvermoon. Stealing food and gold from passersby without them ever noticing. But eventually the guards caught onto her and threw her outside of the city walls into the wild forest.

She was never scared. She didn't care if she had to sleep on the hard ground, she only cared about surviving. So when the scrolls began appearing out of her makeshift camp, she didn't care about them either. The first one was simple, instructing her to gather five rabbit's feet and leave them outside her tent. It ensured her that she would be rewarded. She used that first scroll to start her morning fire. The next day, another scroll sat in the same location the first did. She unrolled it to discover that it said the same exact thing. So she did the same exact thing and used it to light her fire.

This continued for two weeks, and on the morning of the 15th day, she walked out of her tent only to see hundreds of scrolls, all with the same request. "Well, this is just annoying," she said to herself. She saw a rabbit hop along in the distance, she pulled her knife off her waist and threw it, at least 25 yards, straight into it's skull. She ran to it and quickly cut off it's feet and put them in a small leather sack. As she headed back to her camp, she watched as the scrolls began to vanish until only a few remained. She grabbed one and pulled it open.

I appreciate your effort. Please collect one last rabbit's foot, and place it in the bag with the others.

She felt her breath catch in her throat and was about to turn to see who was watching her, but she though against it, not wanting to let whoever WAS watching know she cared.

The next morning she awoke to the small bag she left the feet in now filled with a few coppers, next to it another scroll with a new task. This continued for years, and the tasks grew more difficult, the rewards larger. Soon she was able to purchase an apartment in Silvermoon proper, and while her rewards were never enough to make her rich, she lived a comfortable life. The scrolls were her job and she carried out each task faithfully. She gave little thought as to who her benefactor was she only cared that she was paid for each one she fulfilled. She also didn't care much as to what the scrolls asked of her. In turn the scrolls soon turned her into a rather talented assassin.

It wasn't so much that she was heartless, but she felt ever since she had been abandon that people either fight to live or they die. So, if any of her marks cared enough about living, they would be able to stop her. None of them were able to save themselves yet.

One this particular morning she got her usual scroll, and pulled it open to see what the day had in store for her. Some mornings involved the gathering of herbs or cloth, meat or other simple tasks. Other days, were days she had to kill those that needed to die. But today's scroll was different:

Go to the easternmost inn in silvermoon. Wait.

She wasn't sure what to make of it. Usually the scrolls left her knowing exactly what to do. At times they were incredibly specific, telling her to stab her mark in between the ribs under the left arm, or some other detail she didn't really see the point in. But whether she saw the point in the scrolls or not, she always carried them out, so she gathered her daggers and cloak and headed towards the inn.

She walked into the inn stealthed and hidden in the shadows. It always amazed her how people just never seemed to notice her, even as she grabbed their jewelry or coin purses as they walked by. Oblivious. So she hid in the shadows watch people come and go, tell stories of their adventures, and drink themselves silly so early in the morning. It didn't matter what time of day the inns were always full and lively.

So what exactly was she waiting for? Her eyes scanned the crowds looking for anything out of place, or at least noticeable. But nothing called her attention to it. Taurens ran past her snorting their warm breath across her face. Trolls ran around nearly poking people's eyes out with their teeth, and the Orcs sat around challenging the Blood Elves to arm wrestling matches. Just a typical day.

As the hours passed, she began honing in on people, tracking their moves and conversations. An Orc sat at the bar, drinking herself to death. Her long white braid stretched down her back, and she would finish her drink and immediately order the next. She didn't speak to anyone except the bartender, and she only spoke in Orcish. Occasionally she would order some bat bites or other small snack, but she never moved from her chair, never looked at anyone. In a place that was full of life and cheerfulness, she was the odd one out.

Lynnius stayed in her corner watching this Orc, wondering what could happen to a mighty and proud orc to suck all the life out of them. There was no pride in this one, only the drink. The Orc ordered another drink, and Lynnius watched as the bartender turned around to get it for her. She watched him pour the drink and right before he turned around to hand it to her, a small vial appeared under the cuff of his shirt. Poison! She moved quickly, this had to be what she was waiting for. Her eyes glowed green and she ran across the inn, as the orc reached for the mug. Her left hand hit the bar and she propelled herself over, her foot kicking the mug out of the Orc's hand as she landed in front of the bartender. She grabbed both of her daggers, people finally noticing her. The rushed towards her, but she spent her life being one step ahead of others, and as the approached the bar, her daggers had already hit their mark, one landing in either side of his neck.

Some taurens and blood elves lunged for her, but she was back on the other side of the bar, pulling the drunk orc behind her.

"Quickly Orc," Lynnius snarled as the crowd closed in. She ran towards the darkest corner of the bar and faded into the shadows, pulling the orc into their inky darkness with her.

They arrived at back at Lynnius's apartment, the Orc seeming to have sobered up during this whole ordeal.

"You managed to piss someone off," Lynnius said.

"You saved me," the Orc said, looking dazed.

"What's your name Orc?"

"You saved my life. Why?"

"Because you couldn't. What's your name Orc," she asked again. Lynnius had few conversations with people in her life, but with each one she came across as cold and heartless.

"My name is Jarisi, elf."

Lynnius could tell Jarisi's thankfulness was turning into the trademark orcish rage.

"My name is Lynnius. Look, Jarisi, I'm not sure what's going on here, but we should probably get out of the city."

"They will probably be looking for us, won't they?"

"In Silvermoon? They will forget about us by tomorrow. No, we need to figure out why someone wanted to kill you."

"What we should figure out first is why you saved me."

Lynnius looked sideways and sent her a little smile, "Come on orc, we will talk in the forest."

Guild Classes

Blood Elves

Meeriana - Priest

Isfas - Warlock

Uros - Hunter

Lilypetal - Mage

Samiton - Priest

Orcs

Jarisi - Shaman

Tauren

Dawnspringer - Druid

Undead

Phinnian - Warrior

Waric - Warlock

The Daft Flower

There are a few things you should know about Lilypetal, although what those things are depend on who you ask.

If you were to ask her parents, the first would be that her name is not Lilypetal. No, she was born Annica Worsha. And yes that is the rich and powerful Worsha clan of Silvermoon City. Secondly the wealth of this family is only surpassed by their magical abilities. When Annica was still a toddler, they found her in her crib cuddling with a sheep. It seems she was born with the natural ability to polymorph creatures and as she got older her magical powers grew, quickly out pacing her older siblings.

The true tragedy in all of this is discovered when you speak with Annica. From the time she began to talk, she told everyone that she was a flower that had taken human form. A lily of course, and stopped answering to any name other than Lily or Lilypetal. Her parents first just believed this to be a childish game, but as she got older she only grew more insistent. Finally they played along with her, telling people who asked that it simply was a way she handled the raw magical energy that ran through her. But if you are close enough to the family, you will hear them talk about the great joke Annica is playing on everyone, and they will insist it's all just an act. But anyone who has spent any amount of time with her will tell you, if it is an act, she never slips up.

Lily refuses to eat or drink any food other than what she has conjured up on her own (after all, all plants can make their own food). She somehow stumbled on to the path of a group of renegade adventurers and now travels with them as an equal. Her sunny and bright disposition seems at odd with the brooding guild that she belongs to, but any member will defend her stance in the guild, though with little or no explanation as to why. This lack of explanation has furthered blackened the name of the guild in Silvermoon City, although none of the members seem much to care.

In battle Lily puts on quite the show. If it wasn't for the fact that she is an oddly powerful mage, her survival against even the weakest of creatures would seem impossible. She can be heard throughout the Living Woods, yelling and scolding the beasts as the attack her. She sees each battle as an attempt to teach nature's beast how to behave in a civilized manner, often yelling at lynxes and other such beasts to "sit" or "stay." She doesn't seem to understand that they are out for blood, she seems determined to tame them through frost and flame. And after the beasts have fallen, she stops to collect their skins as punishment for misbehavior.

Anyone that has fought alongside Lily will tell you she is not just immensely powerful, but also extremely lucky (and almost completely oblivious). She runs through the forest with no regard for the dangers around her, often running right through packs of beasts to "talk to the flowers," yet she escapes unharmed most of the time. Those travelling with her are not so lucky. While she skips and sings, they are often being mauled. She can be seen jumping off cliffs and landing safely, waiting patiently for her friends to catch up.

Phinnian - The Undead Elf

When I awoke, I knew my father had indeed come through with his promise to protect me from The Scourge. My father, while he had lived most of his life in the shadows, he knew little of its magic. He had decided that he was going to be a warlock after growing tried of his rogue ways, and when I came to him in need - well when he found me and I needed him, he said he could help. When he pledged to save me, I trusted him, and I guess, in a way, he did fulfill his promise.

I did after all wake up. And I woke up with my hands and feet attached, so I suppose all-in-all, I was in better shape than the night before. Although it must have been a mighty long night.

"Close your eyes and rest my son, when you awake in the morning, I will have healed you," my father said. So I closed my eyes, but when I woke up my city was in ruins and my family was gone.

One night didn't seem quite long enough.

As I roamed around the cit, the blood elves didn't seem to enjoy the sight of me, but then again, I didn't really enjoy running around with my bones exposed and my flesh rotting.

And while I was thankful to be alive in some sense, my parents with all their plotting and scheming knew how this would end up, this was no miscalculation, this was no accident that I was left like this. It was not by chance that I woke up years after my attack, with no trace of my parents or the rest of my family to be found.

No, it was time for my parents to learn the true cost of their plans, of their plots and destinies. And I think I know just the person to help me show them - if only she survived the plan they laid for her.

Guild Professions

Meeriana - Mining/Skinning (Jewelcrafting)/First Aid

Isfas -Enchanting/Tailoring

Uros - Mining/Engineering/Cooking

Lynnius - Inscription/Herbalism/Cooking/First Aid

Jarisi - Skinning/Leatherworking/First Aid

Phinnian - Mining/Blacksmithing/Cooking/First Aid/(Fishing)

Lilypetal - Herbalism/Skinning/First Aid/ Fishing

Samiton - (Herbalism/Alchemy/Cooking/Fishing)

Waric - Enchanting/Tailoring

Still needed: Jeweler

Items in parenthesis are planned professions currently not being leveled

Isfas

Isfas

Smoke acrid and dense billowed out of the ground where the young woman once stood. "That should do it he thought." Breathing heavily from the last round of battle. Whoever this woman was, wherever she had come from, she was a nuisance that had finally been dealt with. Or so the young man had thought. From behind movement and a voice angelic yet at the same time sinister and full of contempt called out to him. "Is that it? Is that the best the mighty Isfas can do?" There she stood barely a scratch. "I'd have thought by now you'd be able to recognize your betters!" she mocked him, chided him into anger. The young man spins around, hate filling his soul, rage contorting his features. His hands raised to prepare a spell. "Too slow!" she mocked again, he recognized only too late she had already finished a spell of her own. A wave of dark energy assaulted the young mans mind, falling, fading, he was unconcious before he even hit the ground.

"Isfas..... ISFAS!!" the shouts became louder and louder but the young boy paid them no heed, he was too busy being a child and enthralled by the world around him. "There you are!" the instructor growled through clenched teeth. "Our lessons were to start over a half hour ago, and here I find you in the courtyard wasting the day away! How are you ever going to become a great Magister like your father if you continue to neglect your studies by doing nothing?!!" The young boy turned to face the noise comming from behind him, his short cut bright red hair almost glowing in the mid morning sun. He didnt like this man, this instructor his father had hired, didn't like his tone or demeanor, he was brash and loud like most humans. He had no place in Silvermoon, Isfas thought to himself.

"Well?!! Are you going to answer me or just continue to stand there with that slack-jawed look of a peasant on your face?!" The man continued to shout, as if the young Blood Elf was deaf. "I wasn't standing here doing nothing." the young boy said, turning away dismissively. "I was talking with Ko'arax." "You are too old to have imaginary friends and I will not tolerate your insolence and disrespect anymore, if you were my son I'd.." "But he is not," came another voice from the courtyard doorway, "and while I pay you to teach my son the Arcane, my wife and I would appreciate it if you would do so with a much more civil tone."

"Good morning father!" the young boy chimed in Thalassian. "Good morning my son," his father beamed a smile back at him. "I think you've angered the good instructor enough, now run along and prepare for your studies and no more Thalassian please." he said with stern look in their native tongue. "Yes father, I understand." Isfas spoke in common, looking down at his feet. "There then thats all taken care of, Instructor Enarias please give my son a moment and he will meet you in the library for todays studies. In the meanwhile I'd like to have a word with you regarding some of the events that have unfolded over the last month here in Silvermoon." "Very well," Enarias said finally calming, his face no longer bright red and sweaty."

Both men tower over the young boy, the Instructor slightly shorter and heavier than his father, wearing a simple scholars robe, embroidery on his robes left chest side. Most likely the emblem of his house. Isfas thought to himself, surley no where near as old or as noble as his own families history. Not at all like his father, tall and stauesque, adorned with robes of scarlett red trimmed with gold markings and runes, common for Magisters of his fathers rank. Yet far more regal looking than anything Isfas had seen in his studies of the other races "Nobility". He laughed to himself, Enarias darker skin and short dirty brown hair, his father light skinned with longer bright red hair, they looked so different standing together, how could they be friends he thought.

"Very well I'm off to get ready, I'll speak with you later this evening ok?" Isfas said as he ran off through the courtyard door. "Yes I'll see you this evening my son." "Oh! yes I'll see you tonight father at dinner!" Isfas disappeared into the manor. "That was odd." the Magister mused for a moment. "Hmmph," Enarias snorted, "Most likely he was saying goodbye to his imaginary friend. I tell you M'lord Meleri hes too old to have this fascination, he's too distracted to focus on his studies!" The Magister chuckles, "So were you when I trained you in the ways of the Arcane Enarias, I had this same talk with your father, and how many times must I tell you to stop being so formal and call me Al'Niar?" "What would the other nobles think of me, being on a first name basis with a High Magistor of Silvermoon, especially one that has hired me to teach his son the Arcane?" smirked Enarias, knowing what kind of response this would provoke.

"Bah, you worry too much about what those pretentious fools think of you, you and I both know that..." the Magister stopped suddenly, turning to where Isfas had been standing in the courtyard. Hand raised as an amber glow begins to engulf his fist, "What is it M'lord!?" Enarias shouts, looking around for whatever it was that has the Magister spooked. "It's.... nothing.." Al'Niar says, lowering his fist. The magical energies he had summoned fading. "I thought I felt... nevermind. It was nothing I thought we were being watched, I'm just being paranoid, what with the young Prince Sunstrider visiting from Dalaran." "Well the Prince of the Kingdom of Quel'Thalas would make an excellant target should one want to harm Silvermoon, but I think the pressures of being a Magister are getting to you my friend." "Your probably right, come let's speak inside on our way to library. After all the time we spent tracking down Isfas we dont want him to wander off, and hes getting frustrated judging by the look on his face." The Magister motions towards the open window of the study on the second floor. Enarias looks up and once Isfas sees hes been noticed walks away from the window.

"Still not at his desk." Enarias sighs heavily. Both men begin to walk into the manor discussing various tasks to be done with the Prince's visit...neither notice the ethereal set of yellow eyes, watching them from the back of courtyard, watching, waiting. As the men disappear into the manor so too do the eyes fade into nothing.....the breeze rustling the leaves of the surrounding trees as if nothing has transpired here this day.

".....get up ........GET UP!!!" Startled the young man opens his eyes, groggy he sits up. Eyes still adjusting to the darkness, only a few torches remain in the room after the battle. Isfas slowly rises to his feet, carefull to take in his surroundings. A small rumble and the shifting of dirt beneath his feet, small debris fall from the ceiling. The room a total wreck after his fight with the woman, the entrace completely blocked from the collapsed ceiling. "No doubt her doing." he scoffs, "Someone as inexperianced as she should not be allowed to weild magic!" "....inexeperianced...your just...saything that ....to make yourself feel better.... pathetic" a voice whispers inside his head. "your the one.....who lost"

"ENOUGH!" the he shouts to no one. "I must find a way out of these accursed catacombs, and when I do woman I will toss whats left of your carcass into the Twisting Nether myself!" Grabbing a nearby torch on the wall the young man makes his way down the ruined corridor, searching for a way out.

An eternity of walking down twisting corridors lined with the rotting bodies of ancient Trolls, laid out in stone alcoves. Sweat mixed with dirt running down his brow, the air getting stale. How much farther he thinks to himself. And what vile traps have the cursed Amani left for me he ponders, or worse how many of the ancient Amani have been left for me. The thought of another battle so soon makes his muscles ache, his head still throbbing from that last spell. "Dam that woman!" he whispers to himself. "This is twice shes foiled my plans, and how did she learn my name." Comming to a fork in the path Isfas stops to contemplate, "Perhaps I shall ask her, before I flay the flesh from her bones..." Left or right, hard to think with the pain. Isfas reaches into his belt pouch. "Dammit no more reagents."

He bends down to pick up a stone and scratches an X in the left paths wall. "There, now at least if I get turned around I'll have some sort of marker in this pit." The corridor twists and turns, several of the tombs have spilled their remains onto the cavern floor. Isfas thinks to himself how much this tunnel reminds him of the Dear Scar. Then from ahead, the sound of battle. "Could it be?" he thinks as he quickens his pace, "Could I be so fortunate that shes trapped in here with me." Running now, faster, his blood pumping and his anger rising. From up ahead light. Suddenly screams, one bestial and unnatural, the other sickeningly familiar.

The corridor ends abrubtly, opening up to another antechamber like the one before. A large central dias carved and mutilated with nicks and cuts, most likely from years of sacrifice sits atop a small raised platform in the middle of the room. A large brass gong depicting the Troll Bear God at the southern end, and a long dried fountain at the northern most point. And there amid the still flaming braziers, locked in combat with the largest Troll hes ever seen, stands the source of his anger and misery. "You contemptible witch!!" Isfas shouts with as much hatred as he can muster.

The undead monstrosity turns its head, roaring with rage at this new intruder. Its pallid skin, dry and cracking revealing bone. Its huge limbs ending in large malformed claws, breath reaking of rot and disease. "Oh my dear sweet Isfas we you concearned for my well being?" she calls out, mockery once again fills her voice. "Perish the thought wench, I will be the one who grinds your bones to powder, not this hulking thing!" The beast swings at the woman who dodges its slow attack easily.

The altar guardian swings again, hitting one of the four pillars supporting the ceiling causing debris and rubble to come toppling down. Now he thinks while its distracted, as withered as this thing is Fire should make short work of it. Focus, concentrate, the words flow and energy gathers. Flames erupt along the creatures back causing it to thrash and writhe. Swinging wildly it misses Isfas, and crashes into one of the braziers spilling its contents across the floor separating the young man from his intended prey with a wall of fire.

The beast, almost completely consumed in fire falls and ceases to writhe. Isfas looks around frantically, so close he thinks, she won't get away this time. There across the room he sees her climbing the rubble, but for what purpose. Then he sees it, the damage from the battle has opened a room above. Realizing he cannot get to her, Isfas fires a bolt of energy at the woman and misses. "My my such a violent little Sin'dorei." she squeals in Thalassian. She stops and pulls back her hood, revealing a young Blood Elf, with long ebony hair, much like his own.

"Who are you?" he roars. "And how do you know my name, for what purpose do you seek to interfere with my goals?" "Questions questions, I can't answer them all now can I, that would take all the mystery out of this game." She reaches into her cloak and produces a jeweled rod. "The scepter of Vel'Torran! So you did follow me here to steal it from me!" "Not at all friend, nothing personal its just buisness." she smiles and turns to leave. Looking over her shoulder "Meeriana..." she says, with a slight nod she scrambles up the debris and disappears thru the opened ceiling.

"Meeriana." Isfas repeats, the flames illuminating the room, causing shadows to dance and flicker about. "I will find you woman, I will find you...."

Jarisi

Jarisi

Pain erupted from my shoulder and I could feel a warm sensation begin to trickle down my back. “Blood” I mused. “No one has drawn that out of me in a long time. I’m beginning to like you”. Lifting my axe with strength only known to Orcs, I swung it will all my might only to have it parried like it was only an annoying house fly. Slightly annoyed I lifted it once more and swung again, this time lower.

“You fight like a Night Elf Jarisi.” The figure said as he danced away from my blade. I suddenly decided I didn’t like him anymore, and that I wanted to hurt him. Better yet, I wanted to squish him.

“I have fought in hundreds of battles. I have seen my fellow Orc’s die beside me and I have killed many foes; most of them Night Elves. I will not have one such as you belittle me. I am Jarisi Mukrah, daughter of Dur’hrak, and defender of Thrall!” With my battle cry I lurched forward, axe above my head ready to slam it down right into the middle of his skull. Inches before impact, inches from his scalp, inches from making me a very happy Orc, my axe hit an invisible barrier and shattered into a thousand pieces. The axe I had taken into battle so many times was now destroyed by something that wasn’t even visible to my eye.

Pain erupted through my body again, but this wasn’t like before. This was everywhere, a white hot burning that felt like my blood was boiling inside of me. I fell to the ground hard and couldn’t move.

“Enough!” He screamed. “Your ignorance angers me and I am done playing with you Jarisi. I didn’t come to kill you, nor fight you. But your Orc rage blinded your wits and I decided to toy with you. I am bored now and wish to leave. First I must give you the message that brought me here.

“Like your so called leader Thrall, you have a destiny to fulfill. You will not do this alone, nor will it be an easy task. Everything you once knew will turn into a distant memory that you will soon forget. Your family, your clan, everything you ever loved will perish. However, you will meet some unlikely companions that will change your views as well as your future. Be prepared Jarisi. Look for the signs and do not let your rage that fills you blind what you are supposed to see.”

I sat in the hot Durotar desert staring at him for what seemed like an eternity. I couldn’t quite make out what or who he was, only that he was taller than a Tauren yet as skinny as a Blood Elf. His black robe masked his face yet I could feel his eyes burning into me with such integrity that I felt compelled to look away.

“I do not understand what you are trying to tell me, nor do I believe any word that comes from your unnatural mouth. Whatever voodoo you hold cannot protect you forever.” I looked up as I said this and realized I was only speaking to a boar that had wandered up to chew on a weed near where I sat. I looked around and saw nothing. He was gone, not even a trace of footsteps lingered in the hot desert sand. I got to my feet and reached for my axe, prepared for any other trickery that may happen. It wasn’t where it was supposed to be, where it always is, at my hip. I looked to the boar again and saw something shimmer in the hot sunlight. My axe, still in a thousand pieces decorating the ground.

Gathering the pieces I started to head towards home. I couldn’t leave my favorite axe there to be picked up by Trolls to be made into jewelry. It deserved to be retired with all my other out dated weapons.

I reached my home some time later, as the sun was setting and I noticed something amiss. That feeling that is unexplainable but completely raw and gut wrenching went twisting through my body. I swung the door open to find my home ransacked. Every piece of furniture was overturned and there was ink splattered everywhere. Ink? No, this was not ink. This was blood. Blood covered the walls, blood covered the ceiling, the bed, the floor… everywhere.

My rage coursed through me again like the first lightning strike of a summer storm. I screamed and fell hard to my knees and began slamming my fists into the dirt floor. What had happened? Where was my family? Who could have done this? Was it Torka from the bar? Did he get mad after I beat him in an arm wrestling contest? Or maybe Quinja after I punted her pet baby swine off of the Orgrimmar zeppelin dock? No, this was something much more sinister and evil.

The only thing left of my family, my mother, father, two brothers… was blood. And that was what I was out to get.