A gnomish complication (Chapter 1) The Ratchet Situation

Sassperilla said:
I'm gonna cry i dont care when this one was posted my names misspelled /cry:(

I am so sorry Sass, I will correct it from now on

The Sassperilla Situation

Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.

Little Mickey wrote the line for the final three hundredth time on the chalk board in room three twenty seven of the Redeemed school house. To his left was Sassperilla, who in his ten year old opinion was much worse then the boogerhead he had called her early that morning. Sassperilla who was a young elf by elf standards only about eighty year’s old, early adolescence for night elves. She stood six feet tall not yet reaching her full height which would be just shy of seven feet. She had pink human skin clear of any blemishes, rich green hair, tied back in thick braid, which came around her right shoulder and ended just past her collar bone. She was slender and attractive in a way all elves were. The ritual tattooing of her face and long ears, only amplified her exotic looks.

Little Mickey was both scared of her and drawn to her usualness at the same time. It had started as any other day with everyone waiting for school to start when the boys he was playing with had dared him. He did not want to do it, but a dare was a dare. So as the boys watched the female elf cross the courtyard to the school, Little Mickey picked up a acorn and chucked it at the elf. The intention was to hit her in the butt; it seemed like harmless fun at the time. He was truly sorry he ever listened to Tommy Finland now.

The acorn missed its target by about three feet and was sailing at her head. In slow motion Little Mickey could not move as the acorn speed at its target with deadly missed accuracy. Like a striking cat, Sassperilla spun and snatched the acorn and flicked it back, smiling at the boy. He remembered clearly the glowing eyes held him with its intensity. Pain exploded in Little Mickey’s hand, like he was stung by a bee. He shook his hand for all its worth tried to shake the pain away.
“That is how you throw an acorn” Sassperilla said smiling. The pain in Mickey’s hand would not fade. “YOU STUPID BOOGERHEAD!” the boy screamed at his would be Victim. Sassperilla quit smiling. Everyone sensed this was a bad thing. The children would talk for years to come, that like lighting, Sassperilla was on little Mickey and the next things anyone knew he was tied upside down on the flag pole jutting out from the entrance of the building, with a gag in his mouth. Soon after that (which only took a couple of minutes) at most. The bell began to ring and Sassperilla joyfully suggest that all the children get to their class. No one argued and it was the fastest any teacher in the history of the school can remembered their students ready for class and quiet.

It wasn’t until a few minutes after the bell the when someone finally informed Mrs. Walker of what had happened to Little Mickey. Mrs. Walker then confirmed that, Yes Little Mickey was hanging upside down and six feet off the ground. She went to inform Headmistress Goblit, who would set things strait. When she ran into Sassperilla heading to the Arcane studies wing, which would have been fine, except she decided to explain to Sassperilla why an adult should never treat a child in such a way, and give Sassperilla pointers on how to deal with children. From Sarsaparilla’s blank expression, Mrs. Walker was not sure she was getting thru to the elf. From the colorful way Sassperilla expressed to Mrs. Walker to kiss a certain part of her anatomy. Mrs. Walker chose a more direct stance on the importance of rules. Mrs. Walker shocked by the audacity of this elf, When Sassperilla decide to walk way because this was a boring conversation and one she had heard many times from Law officials to other teachers to Priests. It all was the same, rules, rules, rules. When Sassperilla turn to leave, Mrs. Walker a young human woman in her late twenties grabbed Sassperilla by the arm to stop her. This was her near fatal mistake.

Now Headmistress Goblit, who had been teaching Little Mickey’s class today, was sitting on Mrs. Walkers desk grading today’s papers. As was her style she was sitting on the desk with papers stacked neatly in front of her. Sassperilla, who on the other chalk board had been writing, “I will not hang school children from the flag pole!” had been done with her three hundred lines for some time. Looked at little Mickey and stuck her tongue out. Little Mickey glared at her. Sassperilla smiled nastily at the young boy and started to raise her fist at the boy…

“Sass.” Headmistress Goblit said with out looking up from her work. “If you do that, I will brake off that finger and feed it to one of my minions.” Goblit said this in an even tone. She looked up at the young elf and meet her gaze. There was no emotion in Goblits face. But her eyes were hard. Sassperilla smiled coyly. “Understood headmistress.” The night elf said.

“Mickey.” Headmistress Goblit said smiling pleasantly at the boy. “You run home now and I will see you tomorrow.” The boy made his way to the door. “And Mickey, hopefully you learned your lesson, about dares?” “Oh yes head Mistress!” Little Mickey Exclaimed. “Go on now, right Home.” Goblit ordered. The boy left with another word.

“Sass.” Goblit said, you have caused no small amount of trouble today. “Usually your little comments and pranks are innocent enough, but you broke a teachers Finger today.” Goblit tried to remain clam. As head mistress, she maintained order and discipline in the school. And it wasn’t the first time one of the Redeemed warriors had caused trouble thru pride or folly, but it was the first time ever a teacher had been injured, by one of their own.

“Hey!, No one told that cow to touch me!’ Sassperilla defend herself. Goblits little gnome hand slapped the desk hard and a sound like a thunder clap echo thru the room. She pointed a finger at Sassperilla. “Blood and thunder, Sass!” Goblit shouted. “Mrs. Walker is one of our best teachers, it cost the school no small amount to keep her, not to mention you actually broke a bone. You will be paying for her salary for the next two years.” Goblit little face was flush. “And I am reassigning to another detail.”
“What?” Sassperilla exclaimed. No, wait I….” But Goblit lit cut her off. “You leave in two days, be at Mithril Harbour for the Maiden Princess.” Goblit tossed a letter to her. Which Sassperilla caught. “Here are you papers, you report to Major Cammandus.” Goblit got up and jumped off the desk with a bounce. “I am no soldier!” Sassperilla barked. Goblit never turned around. “No, but maybe the company will teach you little restraint.” Sassperilla watched the Lady Goblit leave.

Sassperilla made her way out the School, as she walked through the hall ways, she had a mixture of anger and sadness, she liked Goblit a lot, and she knew she was sassy, and at times a hot head, it always seemed to land her in trouble. She never meant to get on Goblit’s bad side. On her way out, there was Bannard sweeping the floor. She always wondered why Bannard did such things; he could easily do what ever he wanted, retire some where, or tell others to do it. He was respected enough in the guild to get way with what ever. But he was always doing chores, or helping in the school.

“Hey there Sass!” the old dwarf said with a little gin. Sass blurted out without thinking. “Does she hate me?” Bannard though for am min, and smile, “Heavens no, the ole girl’s a touch tethered, tis all.” Bannard was one of the few who would refer to Headmistress goblit as “the ole girl”. He continued “Not so much at you, even though you were wrong hurting Mrs. Walker and all” Bannard smiled at Sassperilla.” Does everyone know?” she through up her hands. “Oh yes” Bannard said as he swept.
“I could just disappear and leave?” Sassperilla said. “That’s true enough.” Bannard stated as he stopped sweeping. “Well” Sassperilla said. “Why don’t I? I don’t need this!” She said rashly. Bannard just looked at her. “Because this is your home?” he said as he scratched his head. Sassperilla exhaled loudly. “I am a master thief! A warrior of the night, I am extremely cunning and have skills that some will never know the joy of! I have fought, dozens, NO, Hundreds of battles, and I am treated like a child!”
“hmm” was all that Bannard said. “STOP agreeing with her!” Sassperilla snapped at Bannard. “Oh my!” Bannard said in mock surprise. “Is that what I was doing?” “URRRGGGHHH!” Sassperilla exclaimed as she stormed out of the building.

A short time Later Goblit walked by, leaving for the day, when she crossed Bannard’s path. “Will she go?” she said as she approached the Old Dwarf. “Oh, I think she will. “ He stated. “I would have liked to thump her on the head!” The little gnome said. “And, what pray tell, would that accomplish?” The old dwarf said as he pushed his little pile of dust and dirt into a central area. “It would have made me feel better, and knocked some sense into that spirited Philly!” The dwarf chuckled as he looked at the female gnome. “Now who is acting like whom? He laughed and said in perfect command of grammar. Goblit knew he was making a point, but the way he did it, just infuriated her “Broken bones cost money and Mrs. Walker almost did not come back!” Goblit stated rather loudly.” “And I covered those bills and the salary. And after a little talk with Mrs. Walker, she be as right as rain.” Bannard said calmly.

“Why you covered her folly is beyond me? “ Goblit Said. “Because” Bannard answered “She reminds me of me when I was young.”
“When you were young, I remember to many nights of nursing cuts and bruises and finding myself in places no proper young Lady, or Lord had a right to be!” Goblit scolded. Bannard smiled big.
“If I be recollecting right? It weren’t a proper young lad, you were in the market for back when I was young” He said with a wolf’s grin and a wink.
Pryewood village (Part XIV)

The way was not smooth, Lightwrath wove in and around trees and bushes and thickets with the ease and natural grace that reminded Honie of their Dad. Many times in the last several hours she had to ask Lightwrath to stop and rest. Lightwrath always accommodated her. They snuck by Werewolf after werewolf until Lightwrath had said they were nearing Pryewood village. Home of the Dalaran Wizards were known for there strange magic’s that caused something bad way back when, Honie could not remember but people still spoke of them in a mixture of fear and reverence. But as the night had grown crisp, the smell of smoke came to her nose.

“Lightwrath” She said as a thicket snagged her black robes, yet again. “You smell that?” She asked. Lightwrath nodded. “Smoke, Fire” was all he said, as he consciously moved to the direction of the smell. Whenever smoke was smelt of this nature, it meant trouble, a farm burned down, or worse if a village street caught fire, it meant blocks would be destroyed and people homeless, and from the strong smell, it would seem, something had been burning for awhile. Honie saw that Lightwrath had stopped and she felt a chill run across her back. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a hushed tone. Lightwrath waved her over. And pointed at his feet, it was dark and nightfall had been here for a few hours. But through the starlight she saw the unmoving form at Lightwrath’s feet. Then the smell confirmed her fears. A dead body. “Dalaran?” She asked in a whisper. “ya. A protector, I think.” Lightwrath confirmed as he bent down and started to check the body. “What are you doing? Honie asked, already knowing the answer but still repulsed by the knowledge. “I am looking for his weapons; I have none how he die?.” He sighed. “Keep an eye out!” he said in a loud whisper. That bit of direction brought Honie to instant alert status. What every killed this bloke, might still be around.

Honie carried no weapons much to her family’s dismay. Being half elven, her father taught her many of his open hand combat techniques. Her Father had been a officer in the Darnassusian Army. Most all of her brothers and sisters had spent many years training in some form of combat or another. Their Father always stressed being able to take care of themselves, to be able to when called upon to fight for God, Country and yourself. To him there was no greater feeling of freedom, than knowing you could handle yourself in a given situation or social circle. Knowing how to act in any situation and knowing your place in life was the key to harmony, and harmony was important to him. Honie who spent many an hour with him before the Sisterhood got her, always remembered him saying “I‘ll walk thru a darkest alley or the blackest forest with no fear crippling me. That is power unto itself.” Then he would wink and smile. As much as she valued Lightwrath’s skill and believed in her own ability, She sure would have liked to have the him her now.

In the realms it was unusually to have a “mixed” marriage, much less children of mixed marriages rarely survived, but when those few couples did have children, they were usually good size families usually between three to ten children. As in any society Farm families usually had allot of children. But looking at Lightwrath, Honie, Neno and Katyna, which by all physical appearances seemed to be human. No one would ever think their father was a seven foot giant green Darnassusian. Infact the on going joke was that one never knew the father of a mixed marriage, because the mother always dictated the race. If the mother was human, then all the children would be human, if the mother was a dwarf, then all the children were dwarfs as well. In this case, the only thing that would give Honie and her siblings away was the facial features were her fathers, though she was pink as any human, and her ears were normal, and for all physical aspects she was human. She and her siblings had the bone structure in their facial features of their father.

Their mother had died when they all were young in a tragic fire. Their father had moved them from the Isle (Teldrassil), to Stormwind. Honie always suspected that her Father wanted them to grow up with other humans, because something had happened in Darnassus, though she could not remember anything before Stormwind, and Neno the oldest insisted nothing happened. But night elves were a proud race and haughty to a fault. Not known for their acceptance of other races.

“Oh no” Lightwrath whispered. “What?” Honie asked in a hushed voice. “It’s a woman. A peasant.” Lightwrath replied. Honie knew this was going downhill fast. “Well, what killed her? Lightwrath reexamined the body. Shook his head. “Far near I can tell she was stab thru the back by a big blade.” Honie asked “how big?” Lightwrath answered. “Bigger than I can carry.” “No way” Honie said suspired. Lightwrath was extreme strong for a human or young man, and much like their father. Honie slowly turned around and scanned the area around her at ground level. It was a hunch she prayed that was wrong. She slowly picked up bump after bump in the direction of the village.

“Oh Dear Lord” she sighed “Lightwrath, their all over.” Honie said about the bodies she was detecting. Honie had seen death before, but not the brutality of this scale, or the slaughter of villages, it was unheard of for a long time. Her mind ran away with the imagines that would come in the morning. Her eyes began to tear up. She was sure if she did not leave this place she would go mad, she felt like screaming until her lungs burst and run until her heart gave out. “We-we gotta go, we need to leave here.” She was pulling on his arm. Lightwrath spun on his sister, He realized she was scared and the bug was on her. The bug was what paladins called fear, or a complete emotional breakdown. Sooner or later the bug gets everyone, when you seen too much, lived to long, fighting or seen the worse. “Honie, Honie, there are people in that village, there may be survivors who need our aid.” He hugged her, “you need to be strong, I need you to be strong, I can not help them alone.” He pleaded with her. “no, no, no, there are so many, I counted at least seven , seven right here” she began to ramble and shake. “Lightwrath shook her hard once. “Look Sis, I need you, you can not walk away from this, and you and I took oaths before God! We’re here for a reason”

Lightwrath bent down to stare her eye to eye. “Honie, please help me.” He pleaded. Honie was nodding, “yes, yes, we have taken oaths to protect the sick and wounded” She muttered. Lightwrath nodded. “Honie, we will go together body to body and check them. All the way to the wood line and then watch the village till make sure no one is around and then see who else we can help. Honie seemed to be getting a hold on herself. “Yes of course your right.” She said. “I am so sorry Lightwrath.” She said as she got control of herself. Lightwrath kissed his sister on the forehead. “I just pray that if the bug ever gets me, you will be as understanding.” Honie nodded and said, “I just thought of Dad saying “Bloody @#$%^!, Just do what your supposed to!” Lightwrath chuckled, Ya, right after he cuffed you!”

As Honie and Lightwrath made their way from lump to lump, it was horrible. Each lump was another person gone. Stabbed, hack, and cleaved. There was no mercy shown here. Lightwrath fared better than Honie who had to stop a few time to expunge what little was in her stomach. Lightwrath did only once. A few hours before dawn they made it to the wood line, the smoldering fires, told the story they already knew the ending too. Honie said. “I think we should wait till morning. We’ll have more light.” Lightwrath agreed. “You get some sleep and I’ll wake you in a bit.” He said to her. Honie agreed with him, she wondered how her Father survived years of war, not just war, but the great final war as well. The bloodshed he must have seen. They needed to tell someone about what had happened here. She wondered why the Lord had brought her and Lightwrath here.

Before she fell asleep she muttered an old childhood saying to her brother. One her father repeated to them over and over again, one that was more a rule than a saying. “Two of you go out...” she whispered. “Two of you come back.” Lightwrath finished for her as he squeezed her hand. Honie though of all the times she was not the best sister to Lightwrath, and how actually kind and caring he was. Lightwrath never held a grudge or really had a bad word to say, unless provoked. She muttered a pray of thanks for him as a brother. Honie fell asleep praying.
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“If I be recollecting right? It weren’t a proper young lad, you were in the market for back when I was young” He said with a wolf’s grin and a wink.

I howled to no end.
PapaToad said:
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.
Sassperilla is not a stupid boogerhead and I shouldn’t throw acorns.

Wow wonder how long tht took u
Part XV_ Old Habits and Preparations of a dire nature

Part XV
Old Habits and Preparations of a dire nature

The old dwarf stretched as he stood shirtless on the balcony on the top floor of the dormitory that was adjacent to the Redeemed Blessed Light School house. His thick black hair jutted from his head in every which way, from the top of his head, to the middle of his chest from his chin. He stood a full four feet 4 inches, his three hundred year old body a mass of muscle and scars, his chest was hairy as most dwarfs, marked by the criss cross of old scars. He stared over the Stormwind Park, the forest music and soft green glow of Druid magic made him peaceful, content deep in his soul. The druids were always up at night communing with nature. There magic’s making the park one of the wonders of Azeroth. Its lush green’s and beautiful hues of nature in every color reds, yellows, browns, greens, of the earth tones, but brighter. Bannard thought the best ground keepers in the world were the druids.

Bannard pulled a small leather thong from the pouch at his side. Placed it between his teeth, and started to gather his long black hair with his hands, he gathered it to a pony tail and tied it back, he started to the same with his long beard. When he felt her little arms wrap around him. He smiled, even though she did startle him.

“I take it you leave tonight, then” She asked in her delightful little girl’s voice.
“Yes,” He said sadly and he placed his rough and calloused hand over her dainty little ones at his waist. Her head was pressed against his back. He leaned into her. A scowl came over his face. “I thought we were done with all this!” he after a long exhale. “We knew they would be back, we planed for this.” She returned. “Aye that we did.” He shot back. “We do the best we can to accomplish the will of the Lord.” She said. Bannard sighed. “I do not mean to be blasphemous, or all, but couldn’t the Lord pick someone else this time?” He asked out loud. Goblit giggled. He loved the sound of her voice. “Well who else should we send.? Timert? Ravenclaw? Dawife?” She asked. Bannard grimaced. “no, no their fine in there own right, but …… “
“BUT.” Goblits little voice sang, “My husband would have to do this himself.” Bannard exhaled again. “True, I have to make sure.” “I know, you old goat!” she said as she hugged her husband tight. Bannard chuckled at his wife’s comment.

Goblit’s small fingers traced a long scar on Bannard’s Stomach. She remembered that one. She could not remember which of their many battles it came from but she remember stitching her husband up in Dustwood. Yes, she remembered now, it was the evil lich. How he and his minions had sliced up Bannard but good, but Her old rogue of a husband gave back the favor in full. Goblit pushed the thoughts out of her head. This was not how she wanted him to be thinking of her when he was back in business. She quickly squeezed her husband of nearly two hundred years and then let go of him. She asked. “Some teas before you go?” She was off through the balcony doors, and made her way to the little make shift kitchen. Bannard’s “thank you “was lost into the night.

He walked to the small bedroom, on the bed, which was made already, was a set of black leather armor, a pair of goggles, and tall black boots, with soft leather soles. A weapons satchel was hung over the foot of the bed.. He smiled, she had laid it out for him. Had he been day dreaming that long that she had time to get it all ready. No he thought, she would have had it readied two days ago now. When they discussed his coming out of retirement. He donned his armor and opened the satchel, his old knives where there. He fixed the weapon belt on. He saw himself in the full length mirror. A handsomer fellow, I have never seen, he thought with a chuckle. He felt complete again. It had been awhile since he last had to run a job, and this one called for all his skill and all the luck he could muster.

As be made his way back to the balcony, he saw the druids practicing their open hand combat skills. It amazed him to no end that those large creatures, flipped and rolled and tumbled. Goblit came back with two tin cups of tea. They sat for a few minutes in silence as they slipped the elven tea. Goblit got up and kissed her husband goodbye. Took his hairy face in her hands. “I am going to back to bed, now. You come back to me.” She said in her way of goodbye. Bannard kissed his wife back. “Don’t I always” he grinned. Goblit eyes lit up playfully. “Yes, much to my dismay” she winked. Bannard playfully patted her on the butt. “Off with ya” He said in a wolf’s grin. She left, not so much out of obedience, but to avoid watching him leave again.

He watched his wife leave, as she made her way back to the bed room. Bannard thought about joining her, for a second, for there are many side to a rogue, and Bannard was still a dwarf after all. But, he shut the balcony doors, and locked them with his thieves’ tools. One could never be too careful about open doors. He thought, beside lots of villainous people about. He smiled to himself as he pulled up his mask. The night called, with the grace of a cat, he jumped to the balcony rail, launched himself to the ledge of the roof, and up he went. Running a long the roof tops, staying in the shadows. Stopping every so often in a nice, black as pitch area to see if anyone was following or had spotted him. He made is way too Old Town. He needed information and only a few knew that information was easy to come by for a price, if one could find Sewer Rat Jones. And Bannard knew just where to pluck that pretty little jewel.

The knock came early; Dawife heard chirping of birds, she hadn’t slept well. Papatoad was gone with that hunter fellow who had an ugly pig for a pet. The knock came again. “Hold on. Dawife exclaimed. It continued. “Oh blood and fire.” She stumbled out of bed. Grabbed the robe at the foot of her bed, and made her way through the kitchen to the living quarters and then to the door. She opened the door. “Hello?” she said. The sight that greeter her was not what she wanted to see so early in the morning. Towering over her was Avesther, Six foot five, slender and beautiful. I bet she wakes up that way. Dawife thought. She had no real issues with the Priestess. But, at not even seven bells in the morning. Dawife was not awake enough to deal with elven beauty.

“Sorry to disturb you sister, but there is and emergency.” Dawife was alert. “What’s wrong, is it Papa?” she asked quickly. “No, no, dear sister, there is no news there, but it seems the services of the Paladin are needed in Darlan.” The tall night elf said. “Really what happened?’ Dawife asked. Avesther paused, and then spoke quickly. “It would seem they are under siege by demons.” she explained calmly. “WHAT!” Dawife said now fully wake “There haven’t been any attacks in over hundred years.” Avesther looked grave. “I am afraid this is true, you are to leave right way.” Dawife nodded and headed to the bed room to ready herself.

In the guild hall, stood Azzie, Dawife, Goblit, Ravenclaw, Sassperilla, Avesther, Alhana, Fjorboug, Itchus. Timert, and the whole Redeemed council. Fjorboug started it out. “As many of you know I have stepped down from leadership. I will no longer be Guildmaster of Redeemed.” This started many mummers and comments and shocked gasps. He continued. “As of right now, you are the only ones who know. And with the situation as it is, it has been decided that Alhana will replace me. As of now she is Guildmaster, your direction will come form her.”

This was not shocking news to those present, rumors had been around for a few weeks. But Alhana, while know in Redeemed and she was a gifted preacher and good choice, her and Fjorboug could not have been different. Fjorboug was a stocky dwarf, and the epitome of a Dwarven warrior, Alhana was a slender human priestess who stood at five foot seven, tall for a human female. She had medium length brown hair and an air of friendliness and kindness about her. She was known for her kindness and willingness to help a guild member at the drop of a copper. She had an innocent face and she wore her normal white robes of the Sisterhood of Light order, accented by the cloth of the Redeemed in its red background and gold trim and a lion’s head at each end.

Fjorboug turned the meeting to her. “Alhana smiled. “Thank you Fjorboug, your leadership was and still will be a source of comfort to us all.” Fjorboug bowed as he stepped away from Guild Master Alhana. Whether you know or not, I will tell you that we are coming on some dark times, and order must be kept and restored to certain areas. As the guild House Redeemed has done in the past, we have volunteered our services to the Paladins of Stormwind and Ironforge. As you have probably heard a tauren company infiltrated the place of Stormwind and were suppressed by the palace guard. But only after much damage and heavy fighting and much loss of life on both sides.” Alhana was known for her love of life and unlike other members who had been scared and desensitized by war. Death by any means was always her last resort and she was known for always looking for the greatest preservation of life in any situation.

Alhana looked at each and every member present. “The barrens are being reinforced and Major Cammandus is there taking command of the 5th legion in peace keeping efforts. We believe that the goblins are up to something. For they are maintaining their neutrality with brutal force. In the last month no reports of come from Gnomeregan and of three Redeemed details, none have return.” This shocked everyone for this was the first anyone had heard of there own disappearing.” Guildmaster Alhana?” A little male gnome’s voice came. Everyone turned to look at Timert, who had his hand raises. “Are you mea…..” Alhana raise a hand slowly and smiled. “Master Timert, all will be made clear shortly, if you will allow me to speak.” It was a gentle rebuke, but one that left no question. Alhana was Guildmaster, and would answer questions on her time, and when she was ready. Timert nodded his understanding. “Forgive an old gnome” he said as she continued.

With the skill of a master orator, she continued. “This morning a rider had come to the gates with grave news.” Dawife saw Goblit’s little lips purse as Alhana explained the next events. “The rider claims that the Darlan’s have been besieged by demons.” The grasps were clearer now. Alhana, ever the practiced speaker raised her hands in a gesture of acceptance and comfort.

“Redeemed with thirty other paladins with be sent there to aid our brothers and sister to the northwest. From Mithril harbor they will travel to Southshore, and then to Darlan, this has been arranged. Azzie and Dawife will lead them and be in command. “Azzie as Lieutenant and Dawife as his assistant.” Nods of agreement were made. Alhana continued, “you are not to pursue or follow any resistance, but to secure and assist Darlan only, if its too late, then return here and report to the King himself and then the Redeemed Council. Is that Understood, Knight Azzie?” Azzie, clasp his right fist against his chest and knelt in salute before Guildmaster Alhana.” Perfectly Guildmaster, With the Lord with us, none can stand before us.” Alhana smiled softly as was her style. “We pray for your safe return. Itchus will give you, your orders and papers, report to Stormwind Cathedral by ten bells.”

Itchus touched Azzie on the shoulder and pointed to the hallway. Azzie stood, did and about face and headed into the direction Itchus directed. Dawife wanting to here more, but knowing she should follow, Bowed before Guildmaster Alhana, who modestly bowed back. Dawife executed a crisp about face and followed Itchus.

“Now Timert, You will go with Klangdon first to Ratchet, with Sassperilla and then Gnomeregan to see what has befallen our brothers and sisters. I feel your skills will be best served there.” Alhana paused. “He will meet you both at Mithril Harbour, tomorrow at the docks at noon. “As you command my lady” Timert said as he bowed out. Sassperilla just turned to leave and follow him out. “Sassperilla?” Alhana commented. Sassperilla turned to face her Guildmaster. “May God bless your journey” Guildmaster Alhana said before Sassperilla could comment. Her cheeks darkening in the equivalent of a night elf blush, she curtsied extravagantly and said “God bless you guild master.” Alhana had to fight to keep a serious demeanor.

“As for the rest of us, we have perpetrations to make for the upcoming next few weeks and months, this is my proposal for the guilds role in all of this……..”
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Part XVI - Coming together

The early morning found Bannard in the lower sewer system of Stormwind. The Filth of the place was of such a nature that Bannard would have surely picked a troll outhouse over than this place. But Sewer Rat Jones was sure to know three things, what Inexorable was up to and the limits of his powers. Who was Steven James Tork of The House of Vasteiki, and who had the power to force teleport someone. Bannard thought how weird it was that Avesther would not talk to Steven, and any and all Inquiry of the House of Vasteiki came up blank, nothing in the gnomish histories, which was unusual, and if they had been as wicked as Avesther believed them to be, then the Night elves would have purged the names from their history.

But no one could remember, or would talk. The only reason Bannard sought out Sewer Rat Jones was because when questioning contact out of Ironforge, a goblin workman had stiffen slightly. Bannard would have thought nothing about it, but he knew the Goblin, whose name was Spork, was a direct informant for Sewer Rat Jones.

A green slime creature moved by Bannard without the slightest notice of him. They were creatures of arcane magic, designed to clean the filth in the sewers and act as guard dogs for the Palace mages. Bannard knew the Stormwind sewers like the back of his hand. He breathed normally and quietly, waiting for the creature to pass. As the green slime headed down the tunnel and turned left, Bannard waited three seconds, smelling and listening. He then darted out of the shadows.

In the sewers no one but an expert would have seen the difference between the blackness. But Bannard had many years to practice avoiding detection. Even from magic. He knew just where to stand, and how to put the surrounding landscape to his advantage. Years of sneaking and peeking taught him those things, where a Dog, a solider, or even magic creature were likely to look, what sounds brought attention and what sounds didn’t. He knew all creatures had limitations. A good Rogue knew how to take advantage of those limitations. Many thought they possessed some sort of magic. But no magic was needed to be a sneak, only a little common sense and a little luck

His green glassed goggles, allowed him to see in near pitch blackness. His Dwarven infravision allowed him to detect heat signatures like all dwarves, but the goggles made the pitch black of the sewers, seem like dusk. An enchantment he had picked up from another rogue a long time ago. Moving quickly and cautiously, made his was to the Location. He passed trap after trap and the slime came and went in hues of greens, yellows, reds and finally blacks. Bannard had to be careful of those; they were of the strongest magic and the deadliest. But Ole Bannard was a master thief. He had been sneaking and peeking for over two hundred years, and it had been about that long since anyone had caught him.

Bannard saw in the distance a metal door guarded by two black slime. He pondered this. He knew he could not go through the door. But it had been a long time since he had been invited to Sewer Rat Jones’ dwelling. But as he stood in the darkest shadow of the tunnel, he looked around; there were a dozen side tunnels and drainage tubes that allowed the flow of Stormwind’s waste. Jones had to have air and it had to divert the flow around his little place here. Bannard wished he would have looked at the system maps again, but with the Palace on High alert, he did not want to take the chance of notifying anyone of what he was up to. Much less the officials or Jones himself, besides, Jones would have changed the system himself to avoid unsavory types like Bannard.

Sewer Rat Jones was a far cry from the goblin most would picture from his name. He was a master historian; he was so old that most knew of him from legend alone. He worked for the goblin management committee. Most intelligent races thought of goblins as uncouth, unwashed, simple creatures of tinkering who made wonderful gadgets, there was those and This was true for most goblins, but their hierarchy was one of intelligence and a very business like nature.

There was no goblin king or monarchy, this had been replaced with and the advisory board, Goblins were about profit and power. Throughout the last two millennium goblins have remained independent of Horde, Alliance, or Scourge. They sold their inventions to the highest bidder and the verbal contracts were carefully recorded for accuracy and validation. Because, if anyone could find a loop hole in any deal it was a goblin. Information was power and power meant money and money was to be made. Sewer Rat Jones was the Chief Analyst of the east. In his head were more facts and figures, doings and deeds, than any other living creature on Azeroth. As such, he had a network of spies and informants’ that would make a gnomes head spin.

Bannard knew he would have to crawl through drainage pipe after drainage pipe to find a way in. The goblins being as tight lip as they are now, they were never going to just allow him in, and they just might take offense to his being there. As he shimmied up into a drainage pipe he grimaced as his hand touched something wet slick and smelly, that’s the biz. he thought as he found secure footing and hand purchase. He made his way up he was absolutely positive they started making the drainage holes smaller. Now, all he had to do was find a way in, once he was in, had had something that ole Sewer Rat Jones would be willing to trade his mother for. Bannard smiled as his fingers squished something particularly nasty yet again.

Honie awoke with a start, Lightwrath’s hand was over her mouth and the sun was high, too high. “How long did you let me sleep?” she asked as he shook her head away from his hand. “It’s about mid morning” Lightwrath answered. “Oh” she replied. Last night’s events went through her mind. She remembered the day before last. She was in Stormwind at the end of Spring Festivities; she was working at the church booths when she saw her Father and Uncle Trajan. Uncle Trajan wasn’t really her uncle, but he was her father’s oldest friend and had been around since she could remember. Sort of, he was a Night elf Hunter; he popped in and out of her life for years, and was gone as much too.

He disliked most people regardless of race; he preferred the solitaire life of the woods.

She had been working at the bake booths when her Father waved her over and told her to go to Sliver Pine forest. Well that freaked her out; Silver pine forest was horde territory. She inquired why? Her father told her that her brother was going to need her help, she didn’t argue. Her father had the uncanny ability to know things. So she went, she disliked having to find her brother thru prayer alone and she always felt silly having to explain it. But like many in their family, she was rarely wrong when it came to the moving of the Spirit.

And this time she wished God did not find her worthy of such gifts. Here she was in Darlan, a burnt out village and she knew by the smell that was assaulting her, the once living folks of this village were no more. “Is anyone alive?” She asked her brother. “I can’t tell” Lightwrath answered. “Nothing has moved all morning.” Honie exhaled. She scanned the burnt out relics of building, she had passed this way on the night before. It had been a thriving village. Now gone, No sound of children or people going about there daily business. She looked at her brother, dark bags under his eyes belied his vigor, he was tired. She knew he would push himself until exhaustion took him or they were safe. She had to figure a way to get him to sleep. But first she needed to pray, because frankly she had no clue on what top do or why they were here.

She gathered her black robe skirts and found a place near to pray, around her eyes found form after form, body after body. Oh God, she thought so much senseless death and destruction. She knelt and started praying, at first all she could say was. “Dear Lord, Dear Lord, Dear Lord, Dear Lord, Dear Lord, Dear Lord.” Then a simple passage went to her Lips.

“Our Father, who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done, “

She felt Lightwrath beside her; He started praying as well, but a different Passage.
Honie continued with her prayer, both brother and sister, Praying out loud. Honie felt the Spirit in her, she was relived, safe, and strong, even amongst the dead and burning, God was with her, in her. She was strengthened by her words, the Word, heard and recited; this was the Lord’s Word. Lightwrath’s prayer seemed to wrap itself around hers and together they were strengthen and comforted and made one another strong in the Presence of the Lord.

Honie’s Word (Matt6:9-13) Lightwrath’s Word (Psalm 23)
(Honie)Our Father, who art in heaven,
(Lightwrath) The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
(Honie)Hallowed be thy Name.
(Lightwrath) He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
(Honie)Thy kingdom come.
(Lightwrath) He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
(Honie)Thy will be done, Yea,
(Lightwrath) though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
(Honie)On earth as it is in heaven.
(Lightwrath) Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
(Honie)Give us this day our daily bread.
(Lightwrath) Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.
(Honie)And forgive us our trespasses,
As we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power,
and the glory,
for ever and ever.

They continued reciting these prayers over and over again. It seemed that they should, their very spirits clung to this word; in its truth. It became them, it was reality to them, that their God had brought them here and they were part of His, the Father’s grand design and plan. As their prayers tapered off, they looked at one another and same Amen, smiling. Renewed in the strength and plan of the father, even if they did not understand it, it drove them with purpose. Honie spoke first, and we should check for survivors, after that we will know what to do.” “True.” Lightwrath concurred. “But stick lets stick together.” “Oh yea!’ Honie did not see a problem with that.

The village had been raised to the ground, Burnt out buildings, dead every where, there were no survivors. The attack was one sided. A Total and utter destruction, There were no signs of whom or what killed these people. The only dead were the Darlan’s. Lightwrath scratched his head, this wasn’t right. Something did not pan out here. He had been in small scale battles, the insurrection of the stockades, even participated in the Westfall liberation of the defilas brotherhood, which was a large battle. But, woman after woman, man after man, lay dead and slaughter on the ground. “These were all wizards and fighters, what could have killed them all?” he said to Honie. “Honie was looking around, searching for something. “Lightwrath?” she asked. “Ya, what?” he asked. Honie still searching asked looking at the bodies searching the surrounding area. “Where are the children? “Oh bloody…..” Lightwrath exclaimed, that’s what was wrong, there were no children, all the many bodies were men and woman of fighting age. Lightwrath’s age or older, but there was no one younger, He began looking for the children.

“Oh dear God!” Honie exclaimed as she began to run down the burnt out street. Lightwrath behind her,
“Where are you going?” Lightwrath asked.
“Where is it?” She said loudly.
“ Where is what, Blast woman! Where is what!” he demanded.
“The Bloody town hall, it all looks the same!” she shouted. Lightwrath looked around. It did all look the same. All the buildings were smoldering, some still burning. He did not know what his sister was looking for or why she wanted to know where the town hall once stood.

“YOU DID NOT BRING ME HERE TO FIND DEAD CHILDREN!” screamed Honie. This shocked Lightwrath with its intensity and hostility. At first he thought she was talking to him, but as he watched her run from burnt out building to burnt out building. Some with smoke still rising from it, yet in that last throes of its destruction. Honie was saying. “No, no, no. You did not, I won’t believe that, SHOW ME WHERE THEY ARE!” she screamed in her defiance. She fell to her knees picking through rubble and debris.” Where are they!” she shouted toward the sky. Lightwrath realized she was talking to God. Though he would never say such things in that tone, he understood the urgency of her plea.

“There” Lightwrath pointed. At the end of the street was a building hidden almost from view, in the rubble, was part a bell, a town bell. “The bell, I see it” he shouted to her. Honie shoot up and ran for the building. Lightwrath saw it was still smoldering, still Honie was trying to move a large beam out of the way. It was too heavy and large for her. “Here, we have to clear all of this.” She said trying to push the beam out of her way. “Why?” Lightwrath asked. “With a hard shove that did nothing, Honie explained “BLAST IT!” she stared daggers at Lightwrath. “ Did you ever listen to Dad?” before Lightwrath could answer She went on “Many of the old ways were to have a place to hide the woman or children when a village was attacked! Usually they had a back door or secret entrance beneath the school!” Honie said quickly. “Well, where is the back door?” Lightwrath asked. Honie shook her head, “No! Darlans were a proud and arrogant people, they did not believe in slavery. It was customary that, if the village was taken, that everyone died! They even elected certain women who would make sure the children were not sold or abused.” She said.

“ARE YOU SEROIUS!” Lightwrath was shocked and outraged. His life was dedicated to being a paladin. A protector of the innocence and warrior of God, The very thought of hurting a child sicken him. “Yes!” Honie said “You mean we’re looking for dead kids?” Lightwrath question with disgust. “NO, that was a long time ago, but I figure they still used the safe place to hold the children, which mean they are trapped under this building?” Lightwrath thought about this, looking at the building it seemed to him that once it collapsed who ever was underneath it would be crushed or dead. He could not see how anyone could survive that.

“Honie, I do not think…” he started but she cut him off with her dagger stare. “Blast it, Paladin DON”T THINK! If there are children under this building, it is your duty, your very obligation to help them! Your very honor before God and the cathedral dictates you do that!” Light wrath nodded, he looked around. “Well, we can not do anything with out some tools, come on, help me find some” Honie, her anger sedated with his agreement, nodded and gave the beam a final unlady like kick.

It was well into the afternoon and no one had approached or come to investigate the burned out town. The fields were oblivious of the destruction of the town. As Honie used a pair of giant tongs she had found at the blacksmith rubble to drag another large piece of smoldering wood away from the rubble of the Town Hall. The whack, whack, whack of Lightwrath’s axe had stopped. That caught her attention. “What is it?” Honie asked curiously. “shhhhhh!” Lightwrath answered. Honie stopped what she was doing and listened intently, like her brother. Then they both heard it. An untellable sound, but definitely a muffled voice. “Here, I‘m here!” Lightwrath screamed with renewed vigor. “We’ coming” we’ll get you out!”

Tears of joy steamed down Honie’s face. “Thank you Father!” she exclaimed as she watched her brother hack with wild fury, he threw down the axe and searched for the pick they had found. Only an hour ago their hopes were faltering. Lightwrath had told her, to call it quits; they had heard nothing all afternoon. They did not know what they were exactly to looking for the hideaway. Whether the entrance is at the front or the back, or in the middle. Both of them were covered in grime and soot, their hands covered in blisters and slivers. But Honie stood firm in her belief that the Lord would not bring her here for no reason. Then the reason began to falter in her mind, maybe she had it wrong, maybe the lesson was one of observation, of what was to come. She was near giving up all hope. But she knew the Darlan children could not have been taken. She prayed they were still alive and now she knew that fact. Her heart rejoiced. Lightwrath and her toiled with renewed vigor.

The voices were becoming clearer, not intelligible. “We’re here, we’re here” came a young female voice. Lightwrath located the sound; there was a collapsed wall on the ground. He tossed the axe and tried to pull the wall up. But there was too much on it yet, as Lightwrath started clearing the area, Honie started to talk. “Hello Can you hear me?” She asked “yes, please by the Gods, help us, we can not get out and the door is broke.” Came the little female voice. Honie listened as others tried to out voice the girl, and she told them to shut up. Squalling ensured. The excitement of rescue and pent up emotions were coming through. Honie could hear sobs and cheers and screams and shouts. Before she say anything, Lightwrath slammed the flat of the axe against the fallen wall and whistled as loud as he could. It was a whistle that got your attention.

He did this for several long seconds and then screamed “ARGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!” the children were scared silent. “Now listen to me” he shouted as He lay on the ground and lifted the edge of the corner of the wall up enough to peer under. “I can see fingers, No one talk but the girl, till we can find you.” He saw little fingers pushing through a small hole on the floor. He found a chunk of heavy debris and wedged it between the floor and fallen wall and stretched his hand and wedged himself under it until he touched the little fingers. “I am here” he said loudly. “Oh thank you” Came the small voice as fingers curled around fingers.

It took a little over an hour to clear the way and chop through the floor. Lightwrath, who for the past four years had served as a squire and had been schooled and prepped to lead men and train them,To be a Knight of God, now put that talent and training to use. He reassured the children and comforted them. Honie, who was trained as a priestess did her best as well to clam the children and talk to Robin (the small girl) who seemed the group’s leader. Honie, who was trained to listen to confession and comfort the sick, dying and troubled, skillfully avoided questions from Robin about the village and the people. She focused on the names of the children in the hideaway with Robin, she asked if anyone was sick or injured. What they liked to do, where they lived.

To her own dismay, she deflected questions about their parents and the village and what had happened. As far as Robin knew the bell was sounded late at night and the children were rushed in to the school. Lady Ann had been with them but she had been crushed when the entrance collapsed. Thankful the children had not heard or seen what had happen to the village. Honie thanked the Lord for that. Robin had assured everyone that it would be ok, and that someone would come get them. As soon as whatever was going on was done. Robin was eleven years old and the oldest of the fifteen children that were in the hideaway.

Lightwrath had cleared the area and finally chopped through the floor enough to see the children. The hideaway was under the floor, it was about seven feet deep. As Lightwrath stuck his head in the hole, a gnomish lantern was in the corner giving off a soft green glow. The children rushed the table that Robin had placed a chair on to stick her little fingers through the small hole. As the children scrambled forward. Honie rushed forward and said “Wait!” Lightwrath poked his head out of the hole. “What?” he demanded.

Honie pointed to a dead dismembered body lying in the road, Lightwrath looked around. The burnt out village was littered with bodies. He understood Honie’s caution. Honie got down to the hole and spoke loudly so Lightwrath could here. “Hello Children.” she said smiling. Grime and soot covered her face. “My name is Honie.” She was sure she was a sight. She hoped she looked friendly enough. “Because the building is so wrecked, Paladin Lightwrath is going to help you out of there one at a time, then I am going to place a magic cloth over your heads to protect your face from the smoke out here, we will do this one at a time and take you to a safe place.”

Little Robin looked at her hard. “I am going to take Robin first, and come back for the rest of you.” She saw this was not going over well, with the children, some started to tear up. “Paladin Lightwrath will be here, so you do not have to be scared. He will protect you and we will not let anything happen to you.” Honie heard the murmuring of the children and hoped using Lightwrath’s title would call to the children’s mind the image of knights and grandeur she needed at this time. Honie pulled her head out of the hole and grabbed her robe at the ends and ripped it around. Pulling off a rough shawl worth of fabric. Lightwrath nodded his understanding and crawled to the hole. “Are we ready?” He said cheerfully. His face too, was cover in soot and grime and sweat. His short beard, not fully in yet, seemed to have no effect on the children. “Why don’t you have a magic cloth?” demand a small boy. “Oh” Lightwrath said. “Because, I’m a paladin.” He said thinking quickly. The boy nodded and that seemed to satisfy everyone. “Ok you first sweetie.” Lightwrath said as he extended his hand to Robin. Robin did not move. “Trust me.” He smiled. Her small fingers latched on to his for all she was worth
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Part XVII - A lesson learned (Part 1)

A lesson learned (Part 1)

The road from Southshore to Hillsbrad was uneventful. Though tensions were high, The Knights, to every last man and woman expected that trouble would be upon them soon. Azzie wanted to make it to Pryewood before nightfall but that time frame would not be hit. It was just turning dark now. It would be an hour or two before they made it. But the town would be gone as reports dictated. Azzie did not want to have his knights worn out from a hard ride if demons were still there. Lieutenant Azzie wasn’t surprised by the choice Alhana had made. To him this was what he was born for; trained for and lived his life for this. Command and warfare. The Lord loved his warriors and Azzie knew this in the core of his being.

Azzie could see of one of his scouts, actually it was one of four druids that attached themselves to his little platoon. They had just arrived by boat in Southshore and were getting the horses ready and dealing with the port authority, when a very violet night elf introduced himself as Mealier, a druid from the park of Stormwind and offered their services as a scouting team for the troupe. Azzie thanked him and insisted that thirty paladins would be fine, but Miler insisted that he was not here to protect the paladins, rather to find out why Darlan had caused the world weep. This had caught Azzie’s attention.

Azzie taken back by the blunt comment, inquired further. Mealier explained that late last night they earth itself, wailed and every druid in the world knew it, but there was no doubt the weeping wail came from Darlan. Azzie felt in his spirit that he should take Mealiers help. Besides having druids that could out run your horses proved invaluable and as he thought of it in logistic terms, he decided to tuck away that knowledge for future battles..

At the present time he had a druid in cat form on the left and right flank of the platoon providing security. The other two he had scouting ahead five to 10 miles and coming back to make sure they did not run into any horde or demonic ambushes, as the cheetah came barreling down the road, Azzie was amazed as she shifted into her true night elf form. Elwor stopped right before his horse, “Sir!” she said as she panted. “There are a man and a woman five miles north just shy of Pryewood; they have fifteen small children in tow.” Elwor breathe deeply again. “Hey have come from Pryewood, no other survivors.” Her breathe panted in and out. “The gates of Shadowfang keep are opening and the werewolves are being driven out!”

“Driven out?” Azzie asked, for one does not drive werewolves as cattle. “How many?” Azzie asked as he heard the men and woman rumble. They were ready for action. “I have never seen so many nor have I ever seen the devil dogs so worked up. Elwor panted again. “Scores upon scores, maybe double our number.” Elwor looked at her temporary commander. “But the children are small; the devil dogs will be upon them within an hour once they catch their scents.” The night elf explained. “Blast!” swore Azzie. “We have to get to those children first.” Dawife stated the obvious, holding her mount in rein. Azzie smiled under his helm. “Well, then Ensign.” Azzie commanded “Make it so!” Dawife screamed “FORWARD!” and dug her spurs in, the platoon followed suit.

Lightwrath carried a small boy on his shoulder. The pace was slower than he wanted, but what could you expect with fifteen children ages eleven to five. Little Timmy was one of those children. Lightwrath had suggested that they follow the tree line and wasn’t happy nightfall was coming.

Honie had done well with the children. She first took Robin to the edge of the woods, Thank the Lord there were no bodies here. She explained with brutal honesty what had happened to the village. She told Robin she needed her help to get all the children to Stormwind. Robin had teared up, but then scrunched up her face and stood tall. She was driven to get her little charges to Stormwind. She had thanked Honie and Lightwrath again for their rescue. Honie brought child after child back to Robin. When all the children were out of the pit. Lightwrath and Honie had reassured them and talked to them what had happen.

They left questions for later and both Honie and Lightwrath knew they would have to leave soon; they did not want to be here at nightfall. Now it was coming and the village was no longer within sight, but the chill of twilight reminded them the were not yet safe.. Lightwrath wanted to rush the children, but they were too tried and very afraid.

At full night fall the howls came and the children’s fear and horror came though. Howl after howl was sounded and responded to by the werewolves. Honie stood fully alert and looked at Lightwrath with questioning eyes and horror. Lightwrath had planed for this. He smiled at her and said. “It’ll be ok!” he said slowly and held her gaze in his. He knew the tales of Shadowfang keep. He also realized without the Darlan wizards to keep them in check, they would run wild.

Lightwrath was wearing the blacksmith apron; it had several loops for the pick and woodsman axe, he had slung a makeshift satchel over his shoulder. Lightwrath did not tell Honie that werewolves could not have did such utter and complete destruction to the Village of Pryewood. Lightwrath never seen large scale battle but Pryewood suffered one. But he saw nothing that indicated an army had marched through or across it. He sighed, for it seemed his time had come. “Take the children follow the road to Southshore” he commanded his older sister. “What?” She asked shocked? “You can not fight them, they’re so many.” She stated, she did not know how many but the howls told her there were a lot. “Blast woman, get the children and move!” Lightwrath looked at the scared children. His shoulders slump and he said more quietly. “It’s the only way, its either you or me.

He sadly smiled again. “And if I show up with these children and not you, Father will kill me. “He smiled again. “Better I die here. Honie we do not have time for this, you know I am right go!.” He said, suddenly tried. Honie stood and stared at her brother. A thousand things went through her mind. Worst was he was right, he could hold them off longer, and it seemed unfair that the Lord should have her save him only to lose him now. She was about to tear up, when she said. “Ok, I am sorry.” Lightwrath chuckled. It was hollow and without warmth. “Don’t be. Its life” he smiled, and this time he looked genuinely amused. “You go with Honie, she’ll keep you safe.” He told the children..

Honie stared at her brother, he smiled sadly. “Lightwrath….” She trailed off. He smiled and winked. “Go, save them.” He said. Honie tried to think of something, anything, but the howls grew closer, then a scream spilt the night. That was no wolf. She nodded at her brother, not so much in agreement, but more so the realization that it was their only hope. I love you. She mouthed. It was all she could think of to say. Lightwrath laughed with nervousness. “Of course you do.” Honie smiled fighting back tears. It was something her Father would have said, Lightwrath looked like him in the darkness, expect no long ears.

Lightwrath lead them quickly to the road. It was a place that was built up on the east, so he did not have to worry about attack from that way. A good clearing he crossed of at least an arrowshot wide. He put down little Timmy and one of the other children grabbed little Timmy’s hand. Lightwrath dropped his little satchel and began rummaging through it. Flask of oil, a tinderbox, a length of rope. He knelt to make his final prayers. Small arms wrapped around him. The small child, it was little Robin, she was holding him crying. “You won’t let them hurt us?” she asked. Lightwrath hugged the little girl and smelt her. He wanted to remember what it was like, he smiled and said. “Oh no, I will stop them from hurt you.” He disengaged the child and gently guided her to Honie. “Go with Honie, she will see you to safety. Take care of the little ones.” Robin nodded and scrunched up her little face. Honie took the child and started guiding them all down the dark road to Southshore. “You’ll meet us later.” Robin turned back to squeal. It wasn’t a question. “I will.” Lightwrath said with a wave goodbye. “Swear it!” The little girl demanded. “I swear! Lied Lightwrath…….

Lightwrath watched them make the bend and quickly looked around; he hated the thought of burning down the woods to make a distraction. Their father, a druid would never approve, but maybe he would. “Desperate times call for desperate measures” Lightwrath said to no one in particular. This was a desperate time.

Lightwrath knelt in prayer. ”Dear heavenly Father, Forgive me for what I am about to do, let my father know I had to do this. Tell your woods I am sorry. Please guide Honie and the children to safety and Let me die gallantly and with Glory, gift your son with strength and skill, so too make the angels take notice when I kneel before your throne. Allow me this Glorious death and let it not be in vain. Through you all things are possible, let this one be probable! In Lord Jesus Christ’s name, Amen.” The howls were closer Lightwrath knew with in a few minutes they would be on him and then the children and his sister. That could not happen. He needed to get their intention.

He grabbed the oil flask and was about to uncork it. When he noticed a tall unimposing figure next to him. This person, a night elf, who he had never met, did not startle him. His spirit told him he was a friend. “A good night to die.” the night elf calmly said. It was not a question. Lightwrath smiled. “It is isn’t it?” He responded and for the first time in a long time he saw the wonders of the sky and the lights of the stars and marveled at the Lord’s master plan. It was the most beautiful thing he could ever remember seeing. “You look a man about to do something very stupid?” the Night elf said as he gestured to the oil flask. The calls of the Wolves were getting closer. Lightwrath looked at the flask, he knew the elf was a druid, his buckskin and leather outfit told him that. Lightwrath understood the druids caution at what he was about to do.

“We need to get their attention on to us and not the children.” Lightwrath explained. “I can do that.” the druid smiled. With the tranquil chanting that Lightwrath was accustom to from years of growing up, seeing his father practicing the Woodland arts. The druid’s hands glowed green with nature magic as they made beckoning gestures above his head. the chanting faded to buzzing and the sounds of insects, at first only a few lighting bugs, glowing red, yellow and green, then more and more hovered about ten feet above the druid and paladin.. As the Druid called upon them, Lightwrath and the druid were bathed in such soft multi-colored light so intense that Lightwrath had to nearly shield his eyes.

“We need hold them for but little while, there is a contingent of Paladins about five miles behind us, and they should be here shortly.” The Druid replied, he did not tell Lightwrath that he had been one of the scouts, and had been watching him all day. He did not do this to be sneaky. In fact, the druid had to fight his urge to help Lightwrath and his sister, He and the female druid Elwor decided it was better to watch and make sure they were not ambushed or attacked.

Lightwrath hopes heightened. He just had to live long enough for them to reach the children and his sister. “Thank the Lord!’ he breathed. “Yes! The druid said calmly with a smile. The howls were close, behind them, the unholy scream came again. The light generated by the forest insects was spotted; Lightwrath guessed it could be seen for miles. Lightwrath could hear the werewolves coming, many of them. The urgency of their howls told Lightwrath that they were coming strait for him and his new found friend. He stood to his feet and pulled out the woodman’s axe and mining pick. He spit on the ax blade. The druid smiled, “Die well Paladin!” He said as he shifted to a bear as the first few werewolves came into sight. The druid and paladin had no illusions about the outcome of the battle; their only resolve was to give the children time they desperately needed. “May the wind call you Home, brother!” Lightwrath answered using the old druidic expression of death he heard his father use from time to time. The druid roared in bear form. The sound broke thru the night over the howls of the werewolves. Lightwrath Saluted God as he raised his raised his Axe to the night sky. “Let them come, Father! Let them COME!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. The familiar sensations of the Spirit over came him. In his spirit he was ok with his finally battle. “GLOROIUS! He shouted as a wicked smile crossed his features. A werewolf streaked toward the paladin and druid, the werewolf’s head got the woodman’s axe for his trouble.

Honie heard the pounding of hooves, and her spirit told her that it was help, she quickly moved the children to the side of the road and took her fire wand and cast a quick spell at the center of the road. She heard male voice call a halt and she was challenged. “Who goes there!” a strong male voice called out, it was light enough to see, but not clearly, she could she that they were knights on horse back.

“Honie” She yelled, “Sister of the Order of Light and I have a score and a half of refuges.” Another female voice call to her, “Honie?” it declared. “Oh thank the Light!” Honie shouted. “Danica!” Honie declared calling Dawife by her birth name. The small knight dismounted from her horse and trotted over to the Girl, They hugged. Dawife was Honie’s Stepmother. “Is Papa with you? Honie asked winded from running with the children. Before DaWife could answer, Honie continued. “Lightwrath is out there, fighting alone. About a mile and a half up the road.” She said between gasps “What?” DaWife declared. Dawife made her way back to her horse. “Ensign!” called Azzie. Dawife Mounted and turned toward her commander. Azzie continued. “Forward two ranks Follow me, Dawife, Take the children and your daughter back to south shore, ride hard and do not stop.”

Dawife looked hard at Azzie, of all of her step children Lightwrath treated her best. Though she loved them all every much, He was the kindest to her and most respectful. She chose her words carefully. “Commander, my son is out there!” she said though clenched teeth. “Understood Ensign, and we will aid him, but you need to take the children back.” Azzie continued. “But” Dawife insisted. “But, Nothing!” Azzie barked. “You have your orders; now follow them, Ensign Delafaras!”

Dawife couldn’t believe it. It was her son, out there, in need of help, she looked at Lieutenant Azzie. “Ranks three and four collect a child and form up on me.” She spat as she reared her horse to the left side of the road make room on the right for her commander and his detachment. “Honie make sure all the children are accounted for!’” Dawife did not really understand Azzie order. She was angry. But He had given a command. She understood he was making some kind of point and she did not like being the center of it.

But she obeyed. He had backed her up when in Mithril Harbour, when two paladins had given her grief over being a woman and being only a hair over five feet tall. She had dismissed one of the paladins on the spot with a letter of reprimand to the Head of guild House: Holy Roman Knights and the Cathedral. Any question on her ability to command or the authority she held was squashed at that point and Azzie had been impressed at how quickly she had gained control of the insubordination. Being relieved of duty for conduct unbecoming of a knight was something no Paladin wanted.

Azzie thought it was harsh; he would have rather boxed the insubordinate knight’s ears in. But he had to admit Ensign Dawife had no more challenges to her authority as his number two. He did not like making a permanent mark on the Knights record. And Dawife did promise to expunge it as soon as they returned. But Azzie knew that it would never be completely forgotten.

Now she was humbled and had to accept the authority over her. She was furious, but years of training kicked in. She felt in her spirit that the relationship as Lieutenant Azzie’s number two would not be done any time soon. As the knights collected children, DaWife’s frustration broke out. “Today people, the enemy is behind us!” The knights worked a little quicker. “Forward!” Azzie called with a nod to Ensign Delafaras (Dawife) leading the men toward the village. A moment later Honie was at DaWife’s side informing her all the children were accounted for and Dawife help her onto her mount. “Forward! Commanded Dawife and they were off towards Southshore.

By his recollection, he had been in the drainage pipes for better than almost twenty four hours. And it was beginning to wear his patience thin. Bannard had run into trap after trap. Many of which were of gnomish design and goblin technology, which meant messing with them would bring some form of alarm and after his experience in Gnomeregan, he was not about to see if goblin technology was any better than Gnomish technology.

He was on the move again, as he made his way through a cleaner smelling drainage pipe, suddenly the air had changed, and it smelt of roses and books. A library he thought as he cautiously moved forward. He wondered where exactly he was in the scheme of things. He was sure he could get out if need be, but he did not know how big Sewer rat Jones’ place was, or what to expect. He saw light, it could not be seen with the naked eyes but his goggles showed that it was brighter ahead. He figured it was an air hole or vent, from the smell of roses which was getting stronger. He worked another 30 feet in the drainage tube and he nearly, shouted to the Lord in joy. In front of him was a comfortable looking air vent. Complete with a fan no more than ten feet down. The air vent was roughly three feet by three feet. It ran up so high that he could see a small square of light at the end. The shaft was a little wider than he would have liked but he now knew he had a clearer shot of getting in.

Below him slowly spun a fan of wood and metal design, powered by some sort of energy. It wasn’t moving very fast, just enough to bring in the air. The smell of roses grew, as he watched the fan. After a careful study of it, he decided it would be ok to stop the blades. Rummaging thru one of his many hidden pockets he finally found a small tube, roughly six inches long and about an inch in diameter. It was hollow but made of blacked dark iron. He had used it for many things in the past, such as a makeshift blow gun, to a breathing tube. Today it was a fan stopper.

He watched the fan spin around and around. The fan was incased in a wood that was secured to the vent shaft. The square was intersected, and there would be just enough room for Bannard to slip thru, if he exhaled a lot. Carefully and quickly, Bannard unsheathed a sliver dagger. With the speed of a striking viper he wedged the blade between the spinning blade and a wooden support beam on the casing. The fan stopped and began to whine as gears wanting to move forward could not anymore. Not loud though and Bannard was thankful of this, it would not break. Inserting the dark iron tube and wedging it between the blade of the fan and its casesing, once it was wedged in good and proper, he removed his dagger and sheathed it. He made sure the tube was secure enough to stop the fan blade but accessible enough to remove once we went though the opening.

With his legs braced against the sides of the shaft and not quite putting a lot of pressure on the casing should it give, Bannard near bent in half. For anyone to see it would have been amazed that the muscular dwarf was that flexible. Bannard felt all along the underside of the casing and fan for wires, traps, or anything out of place. He took his time like a craftsman looking for imperfections. None on the fan case, the inch by inch he check the walls under the fan, everything seemed right, when his hand hit something too sooth flat and gem shaped.

Unlike most people Bannard did not pull his hand away, if it was a fireball trap or poison gem, he would have been its victim by now, but that did not mean it was not charged. Working in the exact reverse of how he felt along the edges he slow worked his way backward, hoping that he did not set off the trap. There was a sudden shot of air and the noise of an atomizer. The stink of roses entered his nostrils. By training and reflex Bannard quit breathing. But did not move away or break his concentration. It dawned on him, it was a magical atomizer. Filling the vent with the sent of roses. He took a small breathe and almost gagged. The scent was to strong, he had to hold back a coughing. He finished his inspection of the fan casing and the worked his way through it. It was a tight squeeze even for his frame. After some exhaling and shifting around he made it though. Once though, he got himself situated and removed the hollow tube. The fan continued it’s spinning cycle with out issue. He returned the tube to its place in its hidden pocket. He was slowly moving down the vent, trying to see below him in the position he was in. Spread eagle with his hands and legs out at his sides wedged against the walls of the vent shaft. Inch by inch he worked his way down, after about ten minutes, he noticed spider webs, as he got closer, he notice they got thicker and thicker.

He was getting nervous when he felt the first of them, big ones about the size of his fist. Bannard started to sweat as more came out from their hiding places along the vent shaft. He did not know what kind they were, or whether they were poisonous. But he assumed so, Sewer rat Jones was not about to have big spiders like this just for show, and he knew these ones were not native to Stormwind. He had to do something quick, there were about ten of them on him now, with more coming. “Well old boy” he said, with a quick prayer and thanks to the Lord for the fun ride. He brought his legs together and his arms went to the jeweled belt under his tunic. He touched a jade gem on the left of his belt. Bannard said a quick incantation He truly hoped this was not the end for him; he was in the Light’s hands now .Bannard fell like a shot into the web filled blackness.
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you know, I have the craziest idea....

but we should make this whole story into a WoW gameplay video...somehow.
Part XVIII A lesson learned (Part II)

A lesson learned (Part II)

Lightwrath screamed as he swung his axe and pick again and again. He did not take time to parry or use any of the knightly skills he trained on other than looking for the easiest more destructive places to land his axe and pick. As he fell one beast another took its place. Snaps of jaws and razor teeth cut the air where he had been. The axe cracked down again and again, flesh and bone separated at the young paladin assault. He heard the roar of the druid bear attacking his foes and could not chance a glance to see it his companion was alright. He would know soon enough he wasn’t. The werewolves leaped and jumped, snapped and growled. Lightwrath did not know how long he had been at it, he did not have time to think, he acted and reacted to a dozen jaws.

His arms were tired, and he had a dozen cuts from claws and near fatal bites. Something landed on his back but did not fell him, with a quick shrug to his left he dislodged his foe, and kicked its head while he swung his pick at another’s head. Like a dancer he moved with the tide of battle, something large hit his from the side, it moved so fast. He was slammed to the ground so hard he lost his ax, in his dazed state he curse himself a fool for losing his weapon.

A large boot slammed into his chest, the wind left him, he opened his mouth to scream and blood flowed, He understood clearly his time was short. “Courage. “ it hissed “I do so admire courage” the dark voice said. Lightwrath saw a winged figure in solid black platemail; a giant standing bout teen feet tall, the boot that pinned him to the ground was from his chest to his waist. A massive two handed sword in the creatures hand as he raised it up above its head. Lightwrath hear the roar of the Druid bear and the winged figure turned and swung the massive two handed sword with the speed of a panther. Catching the bear full on the shoulder, the bear roared in pin as the sword cut his already battered body though the bone. The druid bear flew back as if he were a fly.

Lightwrath taking advantage of the distraction swung the pick with all his might prayed deep in his spirit and the pick shone with a light so brilliant that the winged creature tried to step back, but his foot was the target Lightwrath wanted, and with holy speed and precision it found its mark. The demon screamed so loud that Lightwrath was sure that his ears were bleeding. Just as quick the demon focused on Lightwrath again and brought his sword down. There was a sound like thunder and the demon was thrown back, Lightwrath whose hearing was muffled and damaged from the demons scream, felt the earth tremor beneath him. He realized it was the tremor of horses, the knights had arrived.

Unlike other warriors, militants, and swashbucklers, Paladins were trained from ten years old on, discipline and reverence to the Lord was their calling. The paladin who struck at the demon was none other than Lieutenant Azzie, the other fourteen paladins made a protected half circle around Lightwrath and the druid bear, their weapons and lances jutted out from them like a fence of sharp steel and jagged teeth. Their swords glowed with a pure white light; the werewolves were kept at bay the light, a light that was the physical manifestation of the paladins faith in the Lord’s promise.
The demon now stood with his arms wide, the massive sword glowing black with unholy power, with a screech that was a mixture of bird of prey’s call and a drown cat, he screeched, behind him the sky was filled with winged demons the size of men but twisted and grotesque. The light of two swords dimmed, and the Demon saw his chance. His sword arm dropped and he pointed to one of the two dimmed sword holding paladin’s. “his soul shall suffer” He lied in a voice that sliced thru steel. The demons attacked.

Lieutenant Azzie saw what was happening he threw down his busted lance he had used against the demon. He drew his sword, and cried to rally his paladin’s faith, “Believe in the Promise, we carry the light of the living God!” he shouted and spurred his mount toward the ten foot demon. The two paladins whose faith waivers got stronger, but one less than the other rallied under their leaders faith. Azzie knew the demons lie and saw thru it, the demon hoped to belie his men, to make them doubt their Lord’s promise. Lieutenant Azzie knew he needed to reassure them in this time of serious peril.

The demons swooped; Azzie knew the numbers were too great as he charged their leader. “Pull the wounded back and make haste to the Ensign!’ he ordered, he did not like abandoning a fight but his paladins would be slaughtered in this battle. He had told Dawife, her son would be saved and he prayed to God, that promise would be keep. Two of the paladins dismounted and went to the fallen. One paladin: a female, tall and strong from years of battle grabbed Lightwrath roughly and tossed him upon a mount nearest her as if he weighted nothing. A brave werewolf leaped for her as she ran back to her mount, but a mounted knight intercepted him with a swipe of his sword. He light bathed sword slicing thru the werewolves head sending it off into the darkness.

The other paladin ran toward the motionless druid bear, he had no idea how he would get him, as he approached the bear, it became a night elf again, . The elf’s shoulder was nearly severed from the body, the paladin, pushed the shoulder in to place, as the night elf screamed in pain. The paladin muttered a healing prayer and the flesh reformed and healed as a winged horror swooped down, one of the mounted paladins, charged with his lance and the demon flew up, barely missing being skewered.

The ground knight scooped the night elf over his shoulder and ran back to his mount. Tossing the elf over the front part of his saddle, he jumped into the stir-up and mounted his steed. “Come little man!’ the Demon screeched, ‘Look upon the face of your destroyer!” the demon taunted. Azzie spurred his mount at the menace. “FALL BACK!” he commanded as he kept his attention on his foe. The demon with supernatural speed that surprised Azzie blocked his sword with deftness of a dancer and reached up and grabbed Azzie by his head and yanked him from his horse and flung him strait down. A sickening crunch could be audibly heard. Azzie landed so hard he heard his arm break and shoulder muscles tear from the impact before the pain hit. The pain filled his being.

“Please God not like a Dog!’ his sprit screamed as the Cleansing healing light enveloped him and he was in his feet in an instant. Just in time to parry the demons blade. The impact knocked him back so hard he almost lost his balance. He regained it in time to parry another blow aimed for his head. Another paladin charged the demon, only to have his horses legs cut from underneath him. The paladin went sailing into the night, his mount whinnying pitifully at the assault. Azzie blocked blow after blow, he could not get on the offensive when a bolt of lighting slammed into the demons chest. He heard guns shots ring out and explosions. Fire and ice rained overhead. The sound of battle was increased as someone or ones had joined the battle. Seizing the moment, Azzie went to drive his sword through the demon. At the last moment the demon spun to his left and snatched Azzie by the back of his head. With two quick punches he hit Azzie full force in the face with his sword fist. The impact was only comparable to getting kicked in the head by a mule, Azzie could feel blood pour from his nose freely, and knew he should be concern, yet he could not move a muscle after the brutal assault.

Which was the size of Azzie head. Then holding the nearly unconscious paladin by the back of his head. He grinned. And spoke, with breathe that stank so bad Azzie was almost brought to full alertness. “You live, how excellent.” The demon spoke to the lieutenant.” I will enjoy killing you and tormenting you over a thoussssand years.” He grinned and row after row of razor sharp teeth welcomed Azzie. “But your God favor’s you tonight. Consider you self blessed, few live who see me.”

“A remembrance” The demon said as he held Azzie, using his sword hand he proceeded to pull the helmet off Azzie who screamed in pain as the helmet was forced off his head, dented and cracked metal left its mark over his face. With a fingernail the demon chanted a word of power and he drew it across Azzie’s face. Azzie screamed as his face felt on fire, the pain nearly unbearable, yet consciousness would not leave him.

With a two quick screeches the demon took to the air, the minions, disengaged from the paladins and new comers, but the werewolves fought one. The newcomers were the men folk of hillsbrad, who had come to give aid. They had heard of what befell of Darlan from a survivor who had made it. Their goal was to aid the children who were known to be in the secret place. They had come through the mountain passes had seen the lighted glow that they believed were the burning ruins of Darlan.

The demon circled once as spell after spell was resisted by his demon nature. Screeching again loudly the last of his minions obeys and withdrew from the fray, a voice burrowed into Azzie’s skull. “We will meet again, Knight of the Most High God”…………
Part XVIIII The Chosen


The Chosen


That’s what they called her. Her. It was a title, war cry, insult and something to be feared all rolled in to one small female human being who stood 5’6” and 130lbs of twisted steel upon twisted steel. Katyna Lynqis Delfaras was her name, and she was the youngest daugther of the Infamous PapaToad. She had been different from birth, she came screaming into the world angry and bitter and the world heard her and feared her at the same time. Her arrived like a maelstrom, and at her birth the very earth itself rained and thunder to herald the arrival of this chosen one.

She had been born too early; ripped from her mother prematurely. The midwives swore one so little and young would not survive. She had come a full two months before she should have. The healers told her parents to prepare for the inevitable. She barely fit into her mother’s hand, much less the palm of the seven foot giant Darnassusian.

But PapaToad knew the earth and knew nature and if anything is true of him, he loved his children with a reserved abandon. The nature magic gifted him from the creator refused to allow death to come to the small one. In her crib as she screamed and fought the green glow of nature magic surrounded her and kept her warm. Even then PapaToad could feel the fight in the tiny being, which rebuked his magic and called upon its own inner life to fight for survival. Proud and sad at the same time, PapaToad gently prodded and encouraged his daugther to fight, and assisted her without suffocating that wonderful will, that in the future he would battle loudly at times to come.

Most folks including her mother could not stand the child’s screams, but PapaToad knew it was not the screams and cries of a baby. No, this was the ancient war call of a battle commander calling her troops, steeling her spirit, fighting for life and against the injustices that touched her spirit; that wronged life and the harmony of the creator. It was so primal that when druids or hunters who cross infront of the apartments in Stormwind, they would shake as the little voice lasered into their spirits. Even stray dogs avoided that part of the city for that 1st year. Such was the primal force establishing her domain.

Now as the wind whipped her long brown hair behind and blended into her flowing cloak, she looked the imagine of a cross between a queen, battle commander and assassin. A person not to be taken lightly; A very, very dangerous person. She stood on the bow of the Maiden Queen as it made its way from Theramore Island to Southshore. She stared at the shore of Southshore; it was peopled with soldiers, sailors, refuges, and workers. War had come and no one was ready for it. Her dreams showed her the demons and blood elves, but know one else saw it. They all seemed confused and blind to the unnatural happens of Azeroth. She shook her head sadly.

The day was late was a fall day brisk and beautiful, the wind in her hair, the smell of the ocean. “It’s a good day to die” she said to no one in particular. It was a statement she meant. She would have left this little village to rot, but somewhere out here was her sister and brother and some demons had even had the audacity to actually attack one of her own. Her own sweet brother, they had scared her sister and even chased innocent children. The dreams of her childhood came back, demons chasing her, killing all those around her, while she could do nothing but be small and hide and cry in horror. She rested her right hand on the small sharp sword at her waist, one of many weapons on her person. Its familiar weight giving her courage and hope. “I am no child now.” She spat into the wind. She coupled a hand full of air. “I am coming for you.” She hissed into her hand and the blew the words into the mountains of Darlan. A wicked smile crossed her lips. Soon she would be in battle where she belonged. In her heart she said a prayer. That none of the soldiers tried to stop her. It would just be better for everyone.

In Shadowfang keep the ten foot demon screamed and swung his fist with all his might as the human female voice entered his ear. How she got so close scared him. The unfimilaur feeling of fear seized him. With a sickening crack, a winged demon flew back into the wall and slumped on the floor. The bug had him. Quickling regaining composure. The leader demon snarled thru elongated eye teeth and hiss an incantation. In his minds eye her saw Her. She was beautiful and strong, she was standing tall and proud, yet not arrogant. Then he saw the mark, the light of the spirit world on her and she looked at him. At 1st it startled the ancient demon, but then he relaxed knowing she could not see or sense him, but the light, the glow of power around her rippled at his intrusion.

She had been marked and chosen by the others of his kind. Not the demons that choose rebellion, but the Creators very own General had touched her himself. Rage and hated filled the leader demon. He detested the General. This one the young woman on the boat She was called to be a true warrior of the Creator, not just a prayer warrior either a true warrior, a leader of men and a battle commander, yet she was alone.

The beautiful light surrounding her infuriated him, how dare they bask her with that Love. He would enjoy killing this one. He had killed many of the chosen over the many years he had been banished, cast out. This one too would fall. Not that the leader demon would ever admit it, but he was unsettled by this small woman, segregated from the paladins. She wasn’t even a paladin, just a common warrior. Least that’s what we told himself. But the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave.

“Warn the others” the leader demon spat. Double the guard and get link up with the Archon, we must tell him the chosen are being selected.

The winged demon who was hit into the wall, moved to fulfill his orders. But in his black heart the mention of the chosen scared him. For the Chosen were nothing to take lightly.
Chapter 20 How things change

A gnomish complication

How things change

Five years later

Spinning endlessly. No sense of time, not corporal body, no warmth, nor cold, not even the sensation of his skin. Because it did not exist anymore.” Not dead “ a weak mental thought. ‘Not alive” the weak imprint countered. I am nothing , it said, no heaven , no hell, was suppose to be one or the other. Anything would be better than this. Hell?” he asked weakly. I was, he saw an image, who was he? Did he have a name once, an identity, so much changed; he was something, but not anymore. Now he was nothing. The image flashed again

“NO” do not touch it” He tried to scream, but no sound, never sound. It played out again. Scream his mind roared. Nothing. The events of the Dark Portal came back. No he thought that already happened. “Love you” he heard. It was his, his, lover, true, but no it was his wife. I had a wife. Now it was replace, a handful of faces of people, no of woman he had loved once upon a time, when he had been real. NO! His mind scream, he was real! “Trapped” he thought. Trapped, in the nothingness of oblivion. I am… I am.. I amm……I am four hundred and thirteen years old. He mentally shrugged; Maybe four fifteen or four twenty-five, time was irrelevant here.

“They’ve deserted you” the voices came, a thousand of them at once it was maddening. “you are abandon” they hissed “LAIR” his mind scream retorted. They voices laughed. They mocked him, and enjoyed his agony. “Where are your friends, now? Where are your loved ones? Where are your brothers in arms? “The laughing sicken him on a mental level and his will grew weak. The voice over lapped until he thought he would go mad at the voices as the blended yet became distinct. Each voice probing conjuring his memories of lost, of abandonment. His best friend, his 1st wife, his eldest child. “LAIRS” his mind screamed. He saw the image of his youngest daughter telling him she hated him. Through his spirit it ripped him, as a thought it felt like his very existence would shatter. He mentally snatched it from the voices. He saw his arms holding her when she was a child, her aches of teething clinging to him.

The voices tried to snatch it back away. The mental roar was sudden; “MINE! ALL MINE!” He projected with fury unabashed. The voices shrank back just a bit. But it was enough; he pulled other memories from his depleted mental reserves. His children, his paladin son, training with the Knights of Redeemed, his eldest daughter taking her vows, his eldest son, accepting the position he had worked out with the magistrate of Stormwind; when prison for him seems eminent. “Thank you Father” he remembered his son had told him. He grasped that saying. Thank you, thank you.” There were many memories from his children saying that, I love you Daddy, I love you Father, I love you Papa!’

He forced the images and memories and reran them again and again. His mind so heavy with emotion, yet in the nothingness there were no tears, there was no crying for release, the mental wail resided the blackness. The voices shrank back farther until he could hear them no more. His mind wailed yet again, “thank you” the memories said in unison. “Thank you” he wailed to them , longing for their touch , he had forgotten what it even felt like to feel them, their….. Warmth, he had nearly forgotten the word had an actually meaning. He knew he was a nothing being alone as a thought in the oblivion of time and space, he wailed again mentally, he desired to cry in loneliness and misery. But he had no being. He did not know how much longer he would last, before he was one of the voices. Devoid of identity.

“You have been here before.” he thought.
“But not this long” he argued, “not this long” he was growing tired you never sleep here.
“how would you know there is no time here.” He retorted
“I am losing; I cannot remember certain things.” He revealed
“But you remember who you are.” He retorted to himself again
“I not sure anymore.” he proclaimed “ I once had a God, I had a belief.” He admitted defeat to himself.
“You are the same being, you are not saying there is not a god” he countered
“I cannot concur there is” he said.
“You know there is” he demanded “where there’s a design there is a designer.”
“TRUE!’ He agreed with himself. But then retorted, “there is nothing here”
“There are the voices” he laughed
I would rather be alone” he accepted……..
He could feel the presence of the voices at the edge waiting to close in on him again. “Who are you?” He demanded of himself” The images flashed before him, he saw a human.
“NO!” his mind screamed “you died in that life you were reborn, given life.” the mirrors image assaulted him it would not be denied.
“I am.. he started, I am…. I AM….I AM….”

A year before.

A voice sang out of the night. “I come looking for Papatoad!” Klagdon sat bolt right out of bed! “‘Could it be” he thought. Then the sadness hit him. He smiled hurtfully. No he, Goblit, Avester and even Itchus concurred at the breaking when the Dark portal opened and they, the demons came, Papatoad’s life and hundreds of others had been killed at the opening. There was no trace, of Papatoad’s life force. He is gone. He got up as he heard the horse come to a halt. The guard would inform him soon enough. Klangdon stood up and stretched his 3 foot frame. He smiled. How many times had Papatoad carried him from danger? “Dear Father” he exclaimed. How many times had the Oaf carried him into trouble? With a giggle, he wiped his eyes. They were leaking yet. But with Papatoad came the senseless and useless deaths of some many friends and loved one. It had been five years since the Portal opened. And the world suffered for it.

He walked across the room. Grabbed a bottle of gnomish wine. Pulled the cork out with his teeth. Which he usually never did. But Papatoad always used to. “Boy, could that Darnassusian drink.” He thought with a grin. “here’s too you Papa!” he said. He took a long pull off the bottle. “May the Father provide you with many adventures in Heaven!” He knew the Father would. Lagoon blinked.

The next instance he had his hand on the letter. Right as a night watch man was reaching for it. His hand wasn’t really on it; it was on a female gnome’s hand. Whose hand was on the Letter. “Goblit!” Klangdon exclaimed as the flash of light blinded them and teleported them. The last thing Klagdon heard was Goblit little girl voice.

“Oh poo………………………”
*************************Authors note**************

The last real story line I had going was back last year in 05/11/06 Allot has changed in my life, allot has changed in the guild and even the game. To keep the theme going ( the very flavor of the story) I had to make a choices, follow the original storyline or break off as times changed. When I wrote the original saga, I wanted to lead up to the opening of the Dark Portal (Burning crusades) for the final. Now I had to start again after the opening, which leads me to0 many new things.

So if the next few chapters seemed a bit jumbled, please bear with me as we get things back on tract, in a true Redeemed fashion.. As you all know my life is an open book, you need only to ask me. ( privately of course, ) For the sake of my story, I will have to close off some stories, open others, and explain changes, disappearances the best I can. All in good taste, with FLAVOR of the story not diminishing in the least, and hopefully, keep you , My dear readers, as amused and entertained as possible. It is a pleasure to write for you all and of course myself.

If at any time, you have a challenge at the way I represent a character of yours. Please pm me or email me at my namesake at gmail.com with how you see them and I will do my best to represent them in a fashion and a way that hopeful entertains and delights our story further.

But enough of this bother

Let’s go on with the story……………………………..