Shadows of Silverpine

(This is a WOW-based short story i did awhile ago, hope it pleases.)

Worgen hunt silently, and Narakor was no exception, his clawed feet making barely a whisper in the grass as he prowled through the darkened woods of Silverpine Forest. Arugal had sent out his servants in strength tonight, to patrol the roads and woods between Ambermill and Shadowfang Keep. The human wizards of the Kirin Tor had been spreading farther north from their base in Ambermill of late, and Arugal suspected that they planned to lay siege to his fortress of Shadowfang.

That was all he told his Worgen servants at least, when he sent them out to slay any human they encountered on their patrols. Narakor was well pleased with this assignment, he had been sent to a section of the road only a few miles distant from Ambermill, giving him a good chance of a meal tonight.

Narakor licked his fangs at the thought of red meat, humans were palatable enough, and their poor sense of smell and hearing made them easy prey, especially since most were terrified of the Worgen, and often fled hopelessly if they were lucky enough to survive the Worgen's first attack.

They were wise enough to usually travel in groups when they left the safety of Ambermill, but even so, their terror of the Worgen combined with their lack of training and discipline, made all but the largest and most well-armed groups easy prey to Arugal's warriors. Nevertheless, Arugal himself seemed to fear them, whether it was because he was reluctant to recognise the superiority of the Worgen, or the Kirin Tor - as Arugal called them - truly did possess some hidden army or weapon that could make the hairless creatures a threat.

Narakor did not even consider the possiblity that Arugal was foolish or paranoid, the human mage had summoned the Worgen from their world to his own. Forced them to serve him without question, and built a single, unified force out of the many distrusting and often hostile packs. Narakor respected Arugals raw power and cunning, and he was content to obey him as long as he could feast on the fruits of his master's conquests.

Narakor's thoughts were disturbed as his sensitive nose caught unmistakeable scent of humankind.The light breeze that brought the scent came from the north, which hardly suprised Narakor, the nearest road lay less than half a mile
in that direction. And few humans were foolish enough to forsake the open roads for the Worgen haunted woods.

Narakor quickened his pace as he followed the scent toward his quarry, the trees beginning to thin as he drew closer to the road. But Narakor trusted to the shadows and his predatory stealth to conceal him from the night-blind humans.

Only a few minutes later Narakor was in sight of the road, and by the smell he was very close to his prey, though he could not hear them yet.
This section of the Silverpine Highroad was hardly the most advantageous place for an ambush however, especially on the south side. The road itself
had been built on an embankment, with drainage ditches on either side. Providing an easy view of the surrounding forest on both sides from atop it.

Narakor dropped onto all fours as he slunk towards it, straining to hear the slightest sound of his quarry.And just as he started to climb the embankment, he at last heard the distinct sound of booted feet on the cobblestones of the road, not more then three or four, Narakor estimated, and coming closer from the east by the moment.

Narakor climbed cautiously onto the road, and finally beheld his prey; two humans, a male and a female, in the gaudy purple robes of the Kirin Tor,
were hurrying along the road toward him. Two would easily satisfy his hunger, and Narakor doubted they would put up much of a fight.He could almost taste their tender flesh, and hear their pathetic screams and cries for mercy already.



Darod hated Silverpine. The forest itself was twisted, the trees and plant life seemed to be slowly dying of some malignant internal rot. Their leaves and fruits died before they ever fell, the bark on the trees was rotting and slimy to the touch, and even the grass was dying. No birds sang in the trees, and the few animals that remained were sickly, thin creatures. The constant scent of decay permeated the air.

Darod had been horrified when he had been sent to the Light-forsaken forest along with countless other mages and warriors of the Kirin Tor to fight the undead, and lately, the traitor Archmage Arugal. Whose Wolf-Men servants were becoming even more numerous and deadly then the undead Scourge. For where the majority of the undead were unintelligent, mindless zombies that gave little thought to strategy or coordination, Arugal's Worgen were cunning, well-disiplined warriors that fought well in the shadowy forests of Silverpine, their stealth and skill far surpassing the blundering undead.

Indeed, tales of the Worgen's savagery told by the veterans of the Kirin Tor's unsuccesful battles against the Wolf-Men were enough to set Darod fervently
praying that he would never meet one face to face. And at first, that had seemed possible, Darod had been told that they and the even more defensive Scourge rarely attacked Ambermill directly. For his first few weeks in Silverpine, Darod had remained in Ambermill, his only worries short patrols and military exercises.

Unfortunately, one of the Kirin Tor's outposts near Shadowfang Keep had sent an urgent request for more mages to Ambermill, and he and another recruit,
Anglorana, had been sent immediately. They were only novice magi, who could barely conjure a few fireballs, but the few experienced mages the Kirin Tor had left in Silverpine could not be risked on such a hazardous mission.


Though they had only been walking for a few hours, Darod was already nervous, the deathly quiet of the forest unnerved him, and though the moon was nearly full, the trees blocked out much of the light from the sky. Darod wished they could have made the journey in daylight, though dawn was only a few hours off, and the sun would be well up by the time they reached their destination. Besides, the Worgen rarely hunted this close to Ambermill, and recent patrols on the roads had seen nothing amiss.

"How much farther?" Darod glanced at his companion at the sound of the rhetorical question, she looked as uneasy as he felt. "A few more hours walking at this pace" Darod glanced at the sky, "The sun will be up before we get there." Anglorana nodded, and they walked on in silence, the eerie stillness of Silverpine disturbed only by the steady tread of their booted feet on the cobblestones.


They had no warning of ambush, no time to prepare themselves for battle, such was the stealth of the Worgen. There was a sudden animalistic roar, the sound of something huge bounding out of the shadows, and Darod caught sight of dirty brown and black fur, blood-red eyes, and claws as long as his index finger, as the Worgen leapt past him and closed with his companion.

Darod could hardly believe the speed with which Anglorana was slain. She was knocked to the ground as the Worgen collided with her, the Worgen ripping at her throat with his fangs, and his clawed hands slashing at her stomach while Anglorana futilely tried to pull the Worgen's head away from her neck.

Darod frantically tried to call a spell to mind, but all he could think of was a simple fireball, his comrade's screams and the Worgen's snarls drowned out
his concentration and gave him an almost irresistable urge to flee back down the road as fast as he could. Darod stammered over the familiar incantation, and he lost the spell altogether as the noise abruptly died, and the Worgen turned from the bloody corpse of his comrade, blood-shot eyes focusing on him with the same vicious intent.

The Worgen's claws and muzzle were stained crimson with Anglorana's blood. Darod thought he might be sick if his stomach was not knotted with terror, and his knees shook so badly that he could barely stay upright. The Worgen approached him slowly, though whether because it was unsure of itself, or simply enjoying his terror, Darod could not tell. He backed away as it came toward him, desperately trying to concentrate on a spell, but his mind seemed addled and his tongue was dry.

"Ready to die so soon human? or will you run? either way, your thumbs will be trophys for Master Arugal by dawn." The Worgen's voice was deep, but it had a bestial quality that was hard to describe, like a cacaphony of howls and snarls somehow filtered into the common tongue.

Darod was enraged, he was powerless against his own demise, and the thought of the wretched Worgen dismembering him to display his thumbs to the traitor Arugal sickened him. The Worgen's muzzle seemed a blood-covered smile as it fell into a predatory crouch and slunk toward him.

Darod's mind suddenly cleared, he muttered the incantation, moving his hands in what he hoped was the proper pattern. Darod felt heat engulf his hands; the spell was nearly complete...

And the Worgen leapt at him.

Darod was brought to the ground as the Wolf-man collided with him. Cursing, Darod tried desperately to protect his neck from it's fangs, and he screamed with pain as the Worgen's teeth sank into his shoulder. Darod grasped desperately at the Worgen's neck with both hands, trying to pull the creature's fanged muzzle away from his shoulder.

The Worgen seized Darod's arms with it's clawed hands, and tore them bodily away from it's head with vice-like strength, it's long claws easily ripping gashes in his flesh that brought tears of pain to Darod's eyes. Suddenly, the Worgen snarled and recoiled, as the fur on one of it's hands burst into flame, it rolled away from Darod, desperately trying to put out the flames.

Darod got to his feet slowly, his shoulder, and the cuts on his arms were bleeding badly, and he felt sick and feint. He no longer felt capable of offering any more resistance to the Worgen, and it was only through luck that his fire spell had finally taken effect. Darod backed away, gasping, as the Worgen got to it's feet, the Wolf-man had finally succeeded in putting out the fire on it's paw, though the fur there was blackened and singed.

The Worgen did not pause to gloat as it came at Darod again, it was obvious it intended to finish him off quickly before he could recover himself.
Shouts from from behind them caused Darod and his adversary to turn in suprise, the Worgen paused in it's charge and snarled in rage.
Two humans were running down the road toward them. They wore the purple tabards of the Kirin Tor, but instead of long robes, they wore toughened leather armor reinforced with iron studs, and both wielded naked broadswords.

Darod reconised the two warriors with relief; both were veterans of the war in Lordaeron, and some of the most experienced soldiers the Kirin Tor had in Silverpine.The Worgen seemed about to contest their advance for a second, but then turned and bounded away, narrowly dodging a slash from one of the
newcomer's sword as it fled south, toward the safety of the forest.

One of the soldier's pursued the Worgen while the other attended to Darod, removing a linen bandage from his pack, he bound Darod's shoulder, questioning him. "A lucky thing we arrived just then, that Wolf-man looked ready to finish you for good, where's your companion?"
Darod pointed to where Anglorana's still body lay half-hidden in the shadows, and the soldier checked her briefly for signs of life before returning with a grimace of disgust. "Another soldier lost to those nether-spawned beasts, Light curse them..Ah well, best not to linger around here, we'll help you back to Ambermill, and you can tell us what happened to you while we're walking."


The human pursuing him had turned back at the edge of the forest, and Narakor watched from the cover of the trees as they departed with his victim in tow, taking the body with them. The Worgen snarled with rage, cursing himself for his overconfidence in gloating too long over the young human, now he would have to share his glory with others. Lifting his head to the starlit sky, Narakor howled into the night, his fury and disappointment echoing through the forest.

It was only a moment before other howls joined his, Narakor could hear the other Worgen's hunger, their eagerness for blood; none of the others had found prey on their patrols. Narakor howled again, answering them, and after a few minutes, padded onto the deserted road. At least ten of his brethren would join him at this spot within an hour, and the three slow-travelling humans would be cut to pieces long before they reached Ambermill.

I love what you wrote about this. The fact that their are two struggling sides, both having to face their own conflicts... it's an amazing factor in the story.

My only suggestion is to work on your grammar and some spelling, e.x., starting sentences with "and" and using "then" instead of "than."

Thanks for commenting, and i'm glad you liked it

About the spelling though, where did you find this "than" error please? i went over it a few times before i posted, and i didnt see any mistakes.

Some of the paragraphs are a little clumsy, but i think they're perfectly readable.
I'll go over it again and look though.

EDIT: I found plenty of spelling errors, but no "than" i'm afraid. Thanks again for pointing out i had them though.

Oh, there it is. Thanks again.

No problem. Any hints on when the next installment's coming? Interesting story, keep it up.

I'm not sure when i'll have part two finished, hopefully within the month though.

This story kind of reminds me of werewolves, but it's WC3 style! Besides, it's not they(Blizzard) actually put in any.

The first chapter of this story is done very well- it didn't take forever to establish some goal between the opposing sides.

Many thanks for your kind words Ignitedstar

I hope to have part II down soon, and i have some other Warcraft story ideas i'd like to submit here, as well.

(What with computer problems, delays, plot changes, and writer's block, part two was a bit delayed. Anyway though, here it is now..Enjoy.)




Dawn was breaking over Shadowfang Keep. It bid to be a fair day in Silverpine, the dense storm clouds of the night had fled, and the rising sun shone down out of a cloudless azure sky. Under the sun's cheerful light, even the dying land of Silverpine took on a more wholesome aspect.
Save for Shadowfang.
For where the sun's light brightened the gloom of the forest, it brought only stark and ugly clarity to the darkened Keep; A once stately castle, now blasted and broken, haunted by the restless spirits of it's murdered inhabitants, and crawling with the dark forms of Worgen.


Shadowfang Keep stands atop a sheer crag above Pyrewood Village along the road to Gilneas, in southwestern Silverpine. It is an almost impregnable position, the only approach to the Keep is up the narrow, winding road to the top of the crag. Once at the top of the road, an attacking force is faced by yet another challenge; a huge ditch - some twelve feet wide, and thirty deep - lies between the gate of the Keep, and the top of the road. Creating a veritable chasm between the defenders atop the ramparts, and the attackers on the open road, who are completely exposed to missiles from the walls. In times of peace, the ditch is spanned by a wooden bridge, however the bridge can easily be cut if besiegers threaten. Once over the ditch, an attacker will find himself confronted with all the classic difficulties of assailing a strong stone castle; High, thick walls, murder holes, tough oaken gates, strong iron portcullis, and choke point guardrooms within. Finally, once over the ditch, an attacker has only a few feet of solid ground upon which to mount his siege of the walls!

The Keep itself is small, but efficent. Each corner of the walls is strengthened by a massive tower, each a miniature stronghold itself. The towers provide ample room for storerooms, armouries, and quarters for the garrison. The remaining space within the walls holds the courtyard, stables, dog kennels, and a comfortable manor house for the lord and his - or her - family.

However, Shadowfang Keep is not only a strong natural defense, it is also a key position to dominate all of Silverpine Forest. From it's high crag, Shadowfang commands Pyrewood Village directly below, as well as the main road to Gilneas. Shadowfang also boasts easy access both to the coast, the gold mines in the eastern hills, and to the most important strategic point in Silverpine: the crossroads between Tirisfal, Hillsbrad, and Gilneas. From this point, all traffick between the three realms - through Silverpine at least - can be virtually cut. And Shadowfang stands closer to this important crossroads than any other fortress in Silverpine.

And now, this anceint stronghold, with all it's treasures and advantages, was in the hands of a madman and his creatures.



Arugal paced across the stone floor of his study, a small, circular chamber high up in the northeast tower of Shadowfang Keep. The room was bare, save for a small wooden table bearing an array of alchemical equipment, several nondescript, tightly sealed cloth sacks, and a number of bubbling concoctions in stone jars, the contents of which were best known to Arugal himself.

Though the small chamber was nearly crowded, the only noise was the swish of Arugal's robes as he paced back and forth. Beside him stalked his monstrous pet, Fenrus the Devourer, his massive paws making no sound on the stone floor. The first fruit of Arugal's chemical and magical experiments. The gigantic black worg stood taller at the shoulder than anyone else in the room, his bushy tail alone was thicker than Arugal's arm, and his huge, ever-visible fangs dripped with green saliva as he watched his master with fanatic devotion. The spell cast on the mutated worg was a variant of that which controlled the Worgen: Fenrus would not hesitate to sacrifice his life for his master at a moment's notice.

Behind Arugal stood Wolfmaster Nandos, Arugal's lieutenant, a tall, black-furred Worgen, who watched Arugal almost as intently as Fenrus. Against the study door huddled a group of cringing Worgen, perhaps eight in number, at their head stood Narakor, the only one of the group who made any pretension to dignity. Narakor stared defiantly not at Arugal, but at Wolfmaster Nandos, who ignored him. Though he could not even think to defy Arugal, this protection did not extend to to the other Worgen. Thus Narakor's natural resentment and anger at this humiliating interrogation focused not on Arugal, but instead on the instrument of his downfall: Nandos.


Arugal kept them waiting as he paced up and down before them, looking neither left nor right, enjoying their terror as they waited for his punishment to descend upon them, with it's usual brutal suddeness. Finally, Arugal stopped in front of Narakor, staring at him a moment before speaking. "You were ordered to patrol the southern borders of my domain, and protect it from encroaching spies. Simple enough, I should have thought. Instead, you abandoned your posts mere hours after reaching them. To, it seems, pursue ONE fleeing enemy to the very doorstep of Ambermill. " Arugal's voice was soft and sibilant, almost a whisper, it made him all the more intimidating to his cowering victims. And Arugal was an intimidating figure. Tall, and powerfully built, he was clad in long, black and silver robes, black gloves and boots, and a curious masked hood, which left only his eyes and forehead visible. The overall impression was regal, enigmatic, and menacing.

And it was this last that he most appeared, as he stared down at Narakor. "-Thus i had my Wolfmaster call you back. So tell me, why did you do this? Are you truly such fools?" Forced to face his master, Narakor cringed, unable to meet Arugal's eyes. He hesitated a dangerous second before snarling.
"We did not seek to disobey you Master! save that, in our zeal to destroy your enemies, we forgot our discipline. Still, we should have slain many, had not-" It was an eloquent speech, for a Worgen. But instead of placating the mad mage, Narakor's words only infuriated him. Arugal's eyes blazed, he spoke a single word in the language of magic, and his gloved hands burst into white flame. Narakor leapt back with a yelp, as Arugal raised his glowing hands and made a throwing motion. Invisible hands of inexorable strength seized Narakor, lifting the hapless Worgen into the air, and then hurling him at the wall.

Narakor hit the stone wall hard; not hard enough to kill or maim, but hard enough to hurt. He tumbled to the floor and lay there panting, half stunned.
Arugal ignored Narakor, turning to stare at the cowed group of Worgen before the door. "Worthless trash. Beat them Fenrus." Arugal spoke in the same calm, whispering voice, nodding his head in a manner that left his mental sanity in some doubt. Fenrus did not hesitate a second however. With an ear-shattering roar the giant worg sprang into the midst of the packed Worgen, striking left and right, he battered and bowled them about with his massive strength and bulk. The Worgen scattered in terror, for, though together they could have torn Fenrus apart, they feared his master too much to retaliate.

Arugal had strode back to stand beside the table, and the ever-patient Wolfmaster Nandos. The mad archmage watched his monstrous pet wreaking havoc amongst his minions. "Worthless trash, indeed," Arugal muttered, nodding to himself again before calling out, "Enough!" Turning from the Worgen instantly, Fenrus padded back to his master's side with a servility matched only by a brutally trained dog, or a fascist. Arugal favored the worg with a single, condescending pat - which threw Fenrus into subserviant ecstasies - before striding out into the center of the room. He eyed the scattered, battered Worgen contemptuously, hissing. "Pathetic worms! the scum of Shadowdream! you are not fit to lick my boots. Remember this: the next time you disobey me shall be your last!" Arugal paused, enjoying his power over them, before barking, "Now get out of my sight! you are not worthy to stand in my presense!" The beaten Worgen scrambled for the door, leaving it swinging on it's hinges as they fled down the corrider.

Arugal smiled beneath his mask, before turning to stride back to the table, Fenrus at his side. Picking a silver spoon from the table, Arugal began absentmindedly stirring the contents of one of the stone jars as he spoke to Nandos for the first time. "I must have more and better soldiers if I am rule all of Silverpine. The summonings begin again tonight." Nandos's eyes widened, but he said nothing as Arugal went on. "Prepare everything at once Wolfmaster." Nandos bowed deeply. "As you command Master, it shall be done immediately." Arugal waved a languid hand, dismissing him. The Wolfmaster bowed once more, then hurried from the room, closing the door as he went out.

The second Nandos had gone, Arugal threw the spoon away. He looked around quickly before grabbing the stone jar eagerly, pushing open his robes, Arugal lifted the jar, and began slowly pouring the contents down into his pants. "Ahhh...."