| 11-19-2005, 06:57 PM | #1 |
Dark Days A Warcraft Story -Chapter One- -Flee with Shame- "Following the Frozen Throne, the Undead forces of the Lich King launched their invasion of Kalimdor and Lordaeron. The Undead arrived at Durotan, and established a base. Thrall, warchief of the Orcish Horde, rallied all his forces against the invaders. He was defeated and killed. The Night Elves, too were defeated. Now the Undead began their conquest of the undefended continent....." Gaia cleaned Lehas' wounds with a moist cloth. "Leave it," he said, "it will heal-off in time", "please" - said Gaia - "I care for your health." "And for the world?" he asked bluntly, "Do you not care for the world? for Lordaeron? For Quel'thalas" - he bit his finger in order not to cry for the name of his beloved home-city. The magical Quel'thalas. "Do you not care for Durotan? For Ashenvale and Hyjal?" Gaia stared at him. It was in this expression which he could see the beautiful imperfection of her humanity. "Do you not care for your people?" "I have no people," she answered, "you are my people. And I DO care for you." And straightened-out and sat on the bed. "I want to fight them..." he said with anger. "What could would it do? They will feel no pain... they will feel no sorrow..." "But I will feel joy," he said poisonously. She looked away from him, staring through the small entrance of their tent into the open wilderness of the Barrens. The sun began setting behind them. "I've arranged for us to leave this place," said Gaia with a grim face. "Leave?" "Yes. My contact is very reliable. He agreed to sneak us through the lines and ship us to Azeroth with more refugees." "What payment would you give him?" asked the golden-haired elf. "He owns me a favor. From the time he was human." "Was?" "was." Gaia's 'contact' was clearly a lich - a necromancer who was killed and raised again. "I want to stay," said Lehas with the pointlessness of a child. "You will not survive another battle. Especially with an army of such numbers." "I must fight, Gaia." "Please, my love, don't..." she said. A single, silver tear appeared in Lehas' eye. Gaia put her smooth, yet rugged hand on his cheek. They kissed. The next evening, the two walked through a secret road around the near valley. Gaia lead the kodo-beast ahead of Lehas. He watched as the small army grouped together to the west. A poor band of warriors from all-over the world. Human refugees, orc survivors, spellbreakers like himself, elves and druids, and some tribal warriors of the minor races. But the whole of the army was of the wilderness - animals. The undead gathered to the east, the direction he and Gaia were going. Rexar, leader of the allied forces, let-out a battle cry, and charged at the masses of fighting corpses. The ragged army was easily destroyed, and the retreating men and women screamed with terror. They, too, were slaughtered. This time, Lehas had to completely cut-off his finger in-order not to cry. The two were greeted by the Lich and some human supporters of the scrouge; acolytes, necromancers, death knights, and mercenaries. They were lead to an abandoned shipyard, were they met some other refugees, mostly goblins and few surviving human aristocrats. The ship saled for three weeks before they arrived at Azeroth. Neither Lehas nor Gaia spoke a word for those three weeks. When they got off the ship, in a sunny, lusher land, they began to walk. After a few steps, Gaia turned and leaped into Lehas' arms. They both shed tears which merged into a cry of love and sorrow. Lehas' lead Gaia to a large monolith in the middle of a forest. He let a drop of his blood touch it. An old, wicked, high-elven enchanter stepped out of the monolith, as if it was not there. He looked at Lehas, then at Gaia, then at Lehas again. Lehas presented his blade, his shield, and all the gold he had to the wizzard. The enchanter stared at him with old eyes which seemed disturbingly human. "Very well," he said. With the spin of his wand, the mage opened a violet portal. It seemed endless in depth, yet flat. Lehas froze in his place. He could not leave this world behind. "Come, Lehas." said Gaia, pulling his arm. Her black hair was already flowing in mid-air from the suction. "I can't" "You must." He took a deep breathe, and forced himself through the dark portal. -Chapter Two- -A Place Once Called Draenor- "With the fall of lord Illidan Stormrage, a brutal power-struggle opened between Lady Vashj and Prince Kael'thas over the rulership of Outland. While the blood-elves settled in the Black Citadel, the Naga claimed what remained of Shadowmoon Fortress as their base. The harsh wars took their tall at the local races, as the orcs, demons, voidwalkers, and draenei all suffered from crossfire...." When Lehas first set foot in Outland, he knew this was truely a place of the Blood-Elves. This world was scorched and red, damned by the curse of internal struggle. He and Gaia arrived at the nearest Draenei village. The Draenei were kind to them, and supported them for weeks without payment. Afterwards, the couple felt a deperate need to pay their hosts back. The two made their home in a small hut in the village; all day, Gaia would nurse the draenei wounded, and heal their warriors. Lehas, on the other hand, found himself useless. As a male, he had a duty to support the tribe with money. Where could he get money? This was a desperate time. He sold whatever he had. Now he must sell his own flesh to survive. Lehas became a salesman - he sold vials of blood-elf blood. HIS blood. Once it even came to be that such a vile rolled it's way from one vendor to another, until it was bought by the village's sage for ceremonial purposes. A time came, a few months later, when Lehas could sell his flesh no longer. He yerned for a finer enlistment: he entered the gates of a mercenary camp. Traditionaly, the camp's weakest warrior challenged him, to see if he is fit to enter. He managed to defeat the little goblin without slaying him. He then sat there, every day and every night, taking hour-long-brakes to visit his beloved Gaia. On day, an orcish blademaster, possibly\probably a mercenary, passed by, escorted by a few Nagas, but mostly other mercenaries and local creatures. He entered the mercenary camp, and looked around casually. His eyes seemed to flare when they rested on Lehas. "Who are you, elf?" he demanded. Without his shield, blade, and helmet, Lehas simply seemed like no spellbreaker. "I'll fight for whatever sum you'll pay." said Lehas abruptly. "Whatever sum i'll pay?" spat the orc, "you must be desperate." Lehas stood there, motionless. "What is your fighting skill, mercenary?" "Well..." said Lehas, suddenly embarresed for his proffesion, "I am a spellbreaker." - the orc did not blink nor drool for a full minute. "I'll tell you what, elf." he said, "fight for me a single battle. You will recieve three-hundred coins of gold." - a short pause - "if you're no spy- i mean, if i see you kill an elf - i'll double the sum." Lehas nodded solemnly and started walking out the encampment. Once they exited the gates, the orc general spoke once more: "If you fall, elf, who should i give the gold to?" "Don't worry, blademaster, I won't fall." With the dawn of the next day, the small mercenary army fighting for Lady Vashj arrived at a scorched field of dirt. Across from them in the horizon, was a visible tent encampment. Another army. They silently spread-out and circled the tents and wagons. The blood-elves were still waking-up their regiments of mercernaries, and the leader of this army was an ogre. When about five yards from the encampment, the naga force charged from behind the dunes and dead plants. A great battle was fought. Lehas easily slaughtered too gloomy voidwalkers, then turned to another tent where draeneis were sleeping. In the midst of the growing battle, he turned around to an enemy he felt was coming. It was a fully-armord blood-elf swordsman; the two battled for a few minuted, then Lehas stabbed him in the throat. It was a bloody fight. Lehas stared down at the dying elf before him, but was awaken from his trance by an orcish voice: "double it is!" - it was the general. The Ogre general turned against a band of soldiers, Lehas among them, and trampled the earth with a shockwave. Everyone died.... Except Lehas. His magic resistant skin saved him, he was helped-up by a Naga warrior, just to witness his leader pierce the ogre with his blade. The battle was a remarkable success. Taking his money, Lehas turned and made the long journey back home to the village. When he arrived and lay the sack-of-gold on the table, he recieved a warm kiss from Gaia. The two then sat down, and he told her everything. He did not see her that night; a fact which he will never forgive himself for. |
| 12-21-2005, 11:24 PM | #2 |
well done i liked it. |