A World of Warcraft Short Story

The Beginning and The End

(Ashenvale - Music of World of Warcraft begins to play)

I remember chasing her through the garden in the warm summer breeze, we were rushing to church and the bell was ringing loud throughout our small little town. All I could see was her blond hair flowing behind her as she glanced back at me with a smile and laughed happily. The guards at the entrance would scoff as we made our way in with grass stains and our breathing heavy.

(Scarlet Monastery & Halls Music - Mists of Pandaria begins to play)

The colors of red and yellow were everywhere and I can recall our mothers scolding us for being late. "Ladies and Gentlemen of New Avalon and Havenshire, I'm afraid to inform that the Scourge have been sighted along the mountains between us and Light's Hope Chapel. If the mongrels there can't handle the problem, it is needed that we smite the unholy from our lands." Announced Mayor Quimby. Everyone around us started to cheer, men and women alike as the hatred of the undead and everything against the light was present in our blood, some more than others.

"You suppose your dad is going to lead the hunt, don't you?" Evelyn whispered in my ear.

My dad was a high lord and a respected one too, for defending and leading us during times of grave danger. He was my hero, my best friend, and a Scarlet Crusader who stood and fought for all he believed in. I shrugged at her question, "Of course, if we want to win he is."

Evelyn rolled her eyes playfully before her mother began to fix her hair and dirty outfit, then our mayor continued. "Night patrol will be strictly enforced, as will air and sea patrols, no scourge will ever get to set foot inside here, I promise you that my fellow citizens. For High Lord Ulric and his troops will keep your families safe behind these walls."

My eyes shined when my father stood up in his red crusader gear, the tabard with the Scarlet Crest, his shield, and the sharpest and strongest bastard sword anyone or anything has set eyes on. It made me proud to be his son, to carry his name, and one day pass it down to my kids.

"Hey wake up loser, your dad is finally going to take us out to train." A familiar voice fills my ears. Evelyn stands at the doorway of my room fully clothed and tosses my sword in front of me as she smirks on the way out.

Every time I fall asleep I always dream about when the undead were not a huge threat. Now, since Prince Arthas killed his father and was corrupted by the blade of Frostmourne, all hell has broke loose. Thousands of families slaughtered then resurrected by necromancers to become a part of his army to wipe out all life. His home kingdom of Lordaeron fell along with the magic gates in Eversong Woods. For even the blood elves have suffered from the traitor prince as their kingdom, Quel'thalas, was wiped out too, enabling the destruction and abuse of the magic of the Sunwell. I was taught that the outsiders weren't much different than the Scourge, that both were selfish and absent minded and wanted nothing more than blood and from all the stories I've heard growing up it's hard not to believe it. Now Arthas, presently called the Lich King, is raising his undead army over Eastern Plaguelands, or more importantly, too close to us for our liking.

I dress, armor up, and join Evelyn outside with some other guards and of course my father, who turns to look at the two of us. "The dead do not sleep, you know that don't you?" I nod at him as he examines me through his red helm, "and neither do the undead my boy. We need to be more alert, come now, let us patrol the outskirts of the stables."

(Eastern Plaguelands Music - World of Warcraft begins to play)

The men, Evelyn and I, give a sound of acknowledgement before riding out of our safe little town, down past the stables when I see a huge ziggurat in the sky above, simply called Archeus. It looks gloomy, cold and dark, as gargoyles and death knight riders are flying around on skeletal gryphons. Their presence alone adding to the feel of bone chilling and hair raising tingles. I can even hear the screeches of the giant frost wyrms overhead, the icy skeletal dragons watching and waiting in restraint for a command. Suddenly, a sense begins to grow in my chest, some would call it fear, but my father would always call it the doubt you have when you think you will die. We were trained to fight and exterminate the undead, I was prepared for this moment my whole life, why now do I fear them?